You are my Edmond Dantes
by peachi padwan
Summary: CHAPTER 21 POSTED...ONE YEAR LATER. Evey has gone and V struggles with his grief. But what if finding something just sets him to square one again?
1. Chapter 1

Traumatised, aching and in pain, Evey cautiously pushed open the heavy steel door at the end of the corridor. Her hands were torn to shreds, her feet were sore and her whole body trembled. She hadn't felt this afraid since the Finger Men had black bagged her parents all those years ago while she covered her eyes and hid beneath her bed. So many years ago, how time had passed in a heartbeat.

She did not expect to see what greeted her eyes next. She had imagined guards with dogs, guns and another black bag. She expected to be set upon and dragged to another cell and for the torturing to continue. More starvation, electrocutions, pain and unimaginable suffering. To be condemned to death by firing squad all over again. But what she saw couldn't have been further from that scenario in her head. As she stepped tentatively through the doorway, she couldn't comprehend what she was seeing.

She saw colours; rich deep red velvet throws, soft yellow candlelight, hues of cobalt blue, pea green and Seville orange from glorious paintings. She saw heavy marble busts and tall alabaster jars. She saw well painted portraits of dead people she didn't recognise and a beautiful mahogany grand piano. Dusty books, immaculate suits of armour and twisted sculptures. She saw thick-set stone walls covered in exquisite tapestries, old film posters and glass cases of exotic butterflies. Released from her grey prison into a world of colours and sights that overindulged the senses. But far from being elated that she had finally escaped her captors, she knew she had walked into the hands of her one true tormentor.

A wave of nausea passed over her as she allowed her liquid eyes to scan the cavernous room. Evey could feel the hot bile rising in her throat as her brain took in all the things she was seeing. She raised her hands to her dry mouth to stop vomit from spewing forth. Tears began to well in her eyes, balancing on the lower rims of her lids like tiny glass beads. She could feel the warmth draining from her body and her skin lose its youthful peachy glow. She felt as grey and dull as the rags she was dressed in. Her heart sank and she felt its beating slow to an undetectable rate. She watched as her breaking heart slipped from her and onto the cold stone floor, then shatter into a thousand irreparable pieces. She felt numb. Was this a dream? A cruel trick played by her own mind after so long in solitary incarceration? Had she died? And this was her final resting place, the one place she longed to be above all others? Or had Creedy's men played the harshest and most heinous of pranks conceivable for their own twisted amusement?

Then suddenly, she heard something. That voice, that music, that song. The song she had heard when she was first introduced into her saviour's home.

"_Now you say you're lonely  
You cry the whole night through  
Well, you can cry me a river, cry me a river  
I cried a river over you…"_

The haunting lyrics resonated around the Shadow Gallery, and it wasn't until he stepped into the sombre light that Evey began to believe it.

There he was. The man who saved her. Her Saviour. The man she had dreamed of in her dark lonely cell all those months. The man she believed would truly do her no harm. The man she though of first thing in a morning and the last thing at night. The man she imagined herself loving above all others. The man she wanted to hold close to her, to press against her, on top of her. The man she had agreed to die for when she refused to reveal his whereabouts. His dark hair groomed immaculately, his crisp black clothing absolutely impeccable and that mask. The smiling mask with dead black eyes and rosy apple cheeks. The mask of porcelain white with that taunting expression. He stood as he always did; hands clasped together behind his back, feet shoulder width apart, shoulders back and head tilted to the right in playful curiosity.

There he was. The man. The mystery. V.

Evey could barely speak. She couldn't form the words she wanted to say. But then again, there were no words to convey how she felt. She felt small and insignificant. Dwarfed by the grandeur of the Shadow Gallery and the God that stood before her. She felt foolish and ridiculous. She had been fed a lie and she had swallowed it whole. She went limp and she began to feel faint. Evey swayed a little and her pallor started to drain again. In one fluid movement, she began to fall to her knees; V rushed forward and caught her, stumbling onto one knee himself. She clutched him desperately, burying her fingers into his smart black tunic. She held herself close to him, pressing her fragile body against his. She was as a child clinging to its parent. She raised her shaved head slowly and stared at him with hollow eyes. Stared into those black voids he called eyes. She searched his face for a sign of emotion, any emotion, but received only the same god damn smile. How can a mask convey how he feels? He wears it to conceal his identity, his emotions and feelings. She knew she would not know what expression was behind that mask, and at this thought her shattered heart splintered a little bit more.

But from behind his mask, V gazed at her. He watched as her eyes burned like orbs of fire in their sockets. He felt her gaze piercing him, into his very soul, branding him. He was lost in her huge brown eyes. They resembled the eyes of a doll whose own had been cruelly ripped out. He watched as she searched his face for answers; she would find none. He saw her hot tears course down her face and melt into her clothing. As he clutched her to him, he felt her shoulders shake as she cried. He hated himself for what he had put her through. His actions against her had pushed him to the very edge of his sanity and humanity. How many nights had he woken and wanted to stop what he was doing to her? When he starved her it killed him. When he beat her he died a little more. He questioned his motive many times, yet still he found the same answer. That look, that expression on her face now. It was as if he had plunged a dagger into her heart and he could see the look of sheer horror and shock engraved in her face. He had wanted to end this torture months ago, yet he didn't. But it was done now, it could not be reversed, there was only a path to be made forward now.

"Why? Why V?" Evey cried. V sighed heavily and took Evey's head in one gloved hand. He stared sadly at her through the black holes in his mask.

"You will never understand why Evey, so I will not attempt to explain the whys and the wherefores. Simply know that I did what I did for the better good of yourself. What I did was Machiavellian I know, but I did it for a reason Evey." He spoke softly, self assuredly.

"You're right V, I don't understand. I don't understand how someone who once saved my life can push me so close to death." She sobbed.

"And thus I clothe my naked villainy, with old odd ends stolen forth from holy writ, and I seem a saint when at most I play the devil." V sighed.

"Don't quote your Shakespearean shit to me V! You could be the devil himself I don't care, you hurt me, in more ways than you can imagine. Not just when you beat me, or when you doused me in ice water, or when you stopped my food. You hurt me deeper than any physical thing you could have ever done to me. You shaved my head, robbed me of any dignity I may have had, you killed my dreams, _you broke me V_, but I'm still here."

"I don't understand Evey." V said quizzically.

And if truth were told neither did Evey. She didn't understand any of this. Why V had done this to her. Why he had taken her and broken her. Why he had pushed her so close to the edge of sanity. How long had this charade been going on? Days? Weeks? Months? Had he been getting sick kicks out of watching her suffer? Out of watching her pray? Watching her beg for mercy, is that what turned him on? Had he rescued her all those months ago from physical rape at the hands of the Finger Men just to mentally rape her himself? Evey didn't know, there were no answers right now and she doubted there ever would be.

But Evey was stronger. She thought back to those lonely isolated nights in her tiny cell, thought back to what she prayed for. It wasn't food, or escape, or even to kill her captors. The only thing that she wished for was that she might look upon V's face one last time. The thought of death didn't faze her, she had accepted it, she would die so that V may live. But the thought of not seeing V again was what truly made her fearful. That she would close her eyes and know she would never look upon the face of the man she had fallen so deeply for, the man she loved like no other That she would die and he would never know how she really felt about him.

She had only one choice to make now; do I forgive? Or do I condemn? But Evey knew the answer had already been formed before the question came.

"Can't you see! I don't understand what you did to me or why you did it, but I don't care V, I forgive you. Being in that cell made me realise something. It made me realise that there was nothing anyone could offer me to make me betray you. I didn't know it was you V, I truly thought I was going to die. When I was offered total immunity and a new life for your whereabouts, I said no. When I was threatened with death unless I gave them your real name I again said no. Even minutes before my death was due to be ordered I still said nothing. I was willing to die for you V. For the man you are, the mystery you portray and the ideal you represent." Evey sobbed, her tears streaming down her flushed face. She continued.

"I would have died for you, I would follow you till the ends of the Earth to be near you, can't you see that? Don't you understand? You must have heard me V, praying? I prayed I would see you again, to be with you. There is nothing you could do to make me stop the way I feel for you V. I would protect you and your idea forever. You are _my_ Edmond Dantes." Evey said, tears continuing to fall down her face. She raised her delicate hand and caressed his cool porcelain mask. Then he knew in that moment, how sweet it must be to be loved by this exquisite creature.

Although Evey could not see, beneath the mask V's expression had changed. His face lightened, eyes widened and the corners of his mouth curl up in an ever so slight smile. This girl, this angel before him was giving him all she had to offer. Her love, her life, all to him. After everything he had done to her, after everything he had put her through, still she returned to him. He had beaten her, tortured her and hurt in her in so many ways, but she was still here, with him now. This creature before him was the most precious of all things to him now. Not the outlawed Venus De Milo, or the banned Wurlitzer, or even the reviled Madonna of the Rocks. For these treasures simply could not compare to the one he held in his arms now. There was no painting as lovely, no sculpture more beautiful or a colour as radiant than the girl he called Evey, his beautiful little Evey. There were no words he form, no song he could sing and no work of art he could ever paint that would ever reveal just how much he loved and adored his little Evey. He had saved her once in a dark and dank alley. And now she had saved him, here in his own home, saved him from himself and a lifetime of loneliness. She was his Shadow Gallery.

V was relishing holding this beauty to him. So long had he been starved of an affectionate touch, especially from a woman. He had forgotten how good it felt to hold a woman so close to him. Evey was amazing, astounding, a work of art, she was his everything now, she always had been. He would never let her go. He felt different now, strange in a way. He knew his cause had meaning and the actions he would take in only a few months time would still go ahead, nothing could stop that. But now they had even more significance. He didn't want his precious little Evey growing up and living in this hideous world any longer. He didn't want her to be frightened or cold any more. He wanted her to laugh, that sweet laugh. He wanted to watch her dancing in sunlight and to see her expressions when he introduced her to all those wonderful things that had been outlawed. Real chocolate, Red Admiral butterflies, so many symphonies and Convallaria. That sweet little white flower with the meaning of the name so apt for Evey; _the return of happiness._ He wanted to make sure she knew that she was the return of his happiness.

Slowly, V got to his feet, pulling Evey to hers also. He gently wiped her face free from tears with the sleeve of this jacket. Tenderly, he stroked her cheek and silently thought how heart breakingly beautiful this graceful little creature was. Evey smiled at V; her smile lit up the entire room like the rising sun. In a rapid motion, he took her in his arms and felt strangely comforted as her arms draped around his neck. This Venus, his Aphrodite clung to him, needed him as he wanted to be needed. She gave him the love and affection he had craved so long, and for that he adored her. She belonged to him, exclusively. She was his possession, one he would guard with his life. He owned her now. His black shoes clicked on the stone flags as he carried her to his room. Carefully he laid her down on his soft bed, _his bed_. She looked so perfect; the curve of her body, she had the face of an angel.

"V…" She smiled coyly, looking at him with her big doe eyes. She could sense his expression behind that attractive mask.

"Yes little Evey?"

"And now you say you love me, well, just to prove you do…" She sang, her voice sweeter than any bird of paradise.

'_Julie London, how beautiful'_ he thought. With that eternally playful look of curiosity upon his mask, V gazed at Evey in awe. Underneath it he smiled like he never thought possible. Then he turned slowly, and closed the heavy bedroom door.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two_

The night was warm and muggy, the air hung lifelessly in the room. Even the cold stone floor and walls that usually kept the place cool could offer no respite from the clammy atmosphere. The night was uncomfortable and a peaceful passing until morning evaded those trying to sleep. The candles that burned around the room had long gone out, died hours ago but there was still a very faint smell of the heady smoke in the air. The room was still. There was no movement at all from anything.

Evey had been awake for a good deal of time now. She had no recollection of the current time, but she guessed she had been awake well over an hour. She had lain still and had barely moved an inch since she first opened her eyes. She had been awakened by a sharp pain in her arm; she rubbed it and thought nothing more of it, probably cramp. She shifted her weight occasionally, but only to try and keep cool. The bed sheets were damp and stuck to her back. Beads of sweat nestled on her neck and chest. Her bare breasts harboured the first forming for more beads of sweat. She was just too warm. Even being naked did nothing to cool her. The top sheet she lay under, that covered her modesty from waist down, seemed to wrap around her causing her to perspire further. She felt as if she were Icarus on golden wings and that she was melting as she was just too near to the sun. She brought her delicate hand to her forehead and wiped away the perspiration that had formed above her brow. She ran her little fingers over her head; they felt the short spiky hair that was attempting to grow back. It would be months before her hair was anything like what it used to be, a flock of chestnut curls. How she missed her hair, just touching it or running a brush through it, simple things that evaded her now. And to think that the man that had done this to her was right here in this very underground sanctuary only feet away from her.

Evey realised V was no longer in bed with her as when she had awoke she reached out to touch him, but there was nothing. Just a big empty space where her lover, her idol should be. She had crawled to his side of the bed, not only because it was cool, but she could smell him there. That musky fragrance, a mix of leather, soap and a very faint hint of cologne. She breathed it in as she had done only a few hours before whilst he was on top of her, around her, inside her. That smell that filled her head and reminded her so much of the man she loved. She cast her mind back to only a few hours ago, such sweet memories that would stay with her forever. Hopefully together they could add more in the future.

"I love you so much Miss Evey Hammond." He had said to her as he closed the heavy bedroom door and crossed the room to be by her side.

She remembered how he had gazed at her with such desire and longing through black voids in the mask as he laid her on his magnificent bed. She was able to sense his thoughts, sixth sense like almost. How he had slowly and tenderly undressed her with gloved hands. How he quivered and trembled as she showered him with kisses all over his body. He was so eager, just as she was, so willing to learn, to please. He ran his hands all over her body, caressing her curves, his hands exploring her hips, her derrière _(as he so eloquently put it),_ and her breasts. They became as one, rolling, tumbling, falling. Ensconced with one another, the world did not exist for those few sweet hours. They were the only two people alive, just them, alone in their hedonistic little world. The complications and problems of months ago seemed so distant, so insignificant now. Everything had changed, and for the better. There was so much love and desire that the atmosphere was electric. It was simply amazing, he had made her feel like no man before him had. He was everything she expected and more. She was enamoured with this man, nay this god. He had taken her from her lowly existence and elevated her to the heights of Mount Olympus. She felt like she was being loved by a king.

The way he touched her, stoked her, explored her. And she for him. His body fascinated her. The aesthetic aspect of him fazed her not. She saw no hideous burns; of course they were visible, but they were beautiful and they made him the man she had fallen for. She had expected to be reviled at the sight of this naked villain, but she was dazzled by just how much attraction she felt for him. She ran her fingers over his body and was delighted with the response she was receiving from him. He squirmed and wriggled with delight, letting escape small moans and gasps of pleasure. He even permitted her to view his face in all its glory. Evey smiled as she remembered how he sat nervously just before he remove his mask, then how he had glanced at her like a scolded dog when he was without it. She took him in her arms and told him exactly what she thought. That he was stunning, a work of art and that she loved they way he looked. That she found him more attractive than the Venus De Milo, that she found him more beautiful than the lyrics to Cat Powers 'I Found a Reason' and that she loved him more than real butter. The latter compliment found V emitting an appreciative giggle. She purred to him that the burns did nothing at all to hinder her affection for him. And from then he was reassured. His prowess in the bedroom astounded Evey; she was swept of her feet, quite literally. He did to her all she desired and more. He simply took her breath away. She loved him for all he had done to her in those few hours, and for all the things he would do to her in the time to come. His affection for her and her loyalty for him would go unrivalled throughout the ages. Romeo and Juliet were dead, Oberon and Titania had faded and Anthony and Cleopatra were distant memories. It was now V and Evey.

But V's side of the bed was now just as warm as Evey's side and his fragrance had long faded. Slowly the heat crept back into her thoughts again, and once more it was all she could think of. She was so clammy and sweaty, it disgusted her. Having had enough of being too warm, Evey sat up and reached for the tall glass of water by her bed. It was pitch black, so she fumbled until she found it. She caressed the glass lovingly in her hands as she gulped the cold water. It revitalised her, the cool liquid running down her parched throat, quelling the raging heat within. As she placed the glass back in its place, a strange feeling washed over and sent a tingle down her spine.

She was being watched. She could sense it.

"V." She whispered into the darkness.

No response.

"V?" She said again a little louder.

Suddenly a flash of light was visible at the side of the bed. She heard a slight fizz the saw a small plume of heady smoke filled the surrounding air and an amber glowed filled the room. Shadows were cast around the room, the darkness creeping away yielding to the light. It was V, he was stood by her only a few feet away, he had lit a candle and was holding it in one hand. It lit up his mask and from the angle of the light, it looked quite menacing. That sinister smile illuminated by candlelight. His black eyes cloaked in the shadow cast by the brim of his hat. He leaned slowly and placed it on the table by the wall.

Evey exhaled heavily, although she was not very frightened, she felt a wave of relief pass over her as she recognised her watcher as her beloved. She blinked several times as her eyes adjusted to the light. A smile crept onto her face as she gazed at her lover. She shifted and leaned forward, extending her arm to him.

"V come back to bed, I can't sleep. There's an empty space where you shoul…..V why are you dressed like that?" Evey furrowed her brow into a displeasing frown. As she glanced at him, she realised he was dressed, fully. Black tunic, shoes, cloak, mask and wig. Immaculately dressed. _He does look gorgeous though,_ she thought.

"Have you been out V? Is that why you got up? Couldn't you sleep?" She asked nervously. How long had he been watching her? How long had he been languishing in the darkness, feasting and gorging himself upon her exposed naked body. She had been awake so long he must have been there the whole time. Slipped into a corner of the room and observed her silently. Evey started to feel slightly uncomfortable.

V gave no answer; he emitted no sound or noise at all. He just stood, as still as a granite statue. It was as if he weren't real, barely even breathing.

"V, what are you doing?" Evey asked again, the discomfort and worry in her voice now becoming quite evident. She tried to gather the bed sheet to her, covering her exposed breasts.

It seemed like an eternity before he replied, but he spoke at last, his voice soft and low in the darkness.

"I've come to give you this Evey." From under his cloak he produced a flower. A perfect Scarlet Carson. Beautifully formed and a stunning deep red. V extended his arm and handed it to the girl in his bed. Tentatively she took it from him and began to finger the velvet petals.

"V it's beautiful, but couldn't this wait till morning? Please come to bed. If you're not tired then I have ways to make you sleep!" She giggled seductively, feeling more at ease.

But V stood still and shook his head lightly. _It had to be done, it was done now_, _no going back_ he thought silently.

"Is something the matter V? What's happened?" She paused. "What have I done?" Evey asked desperation in her voice.

"It is not what you have done Evey, it is what I have done." V replied, his voice not faltering once.

"What do you mean? I….I…I don't understand."

"Things have happened between us that I should not have allowed Evey. This cannot go any further. I cannot have my mind and attention swayed from the task that is in hand. I have done things that have stayed me from my aim. You are a distraction to me Evey, and one that I cannot afford any longer." V spoke bluntly, callously with venom in his voice.

Evey could scarcely believe what he was saying. Was she hearing him correctly? Was this a joke? Role play even?

"But V, what happened…you were happy…you enjoyed it…you love me V. I'm not a distraction; I'm yours, all yours. V you know you can do with me as you wish but don't do this, V please!" Evey voice quivered, fear crept over her know. What was he saying? What did he mean?

"I am sorry Evey, truly sorry. What is done is done, but it changes nothing. The fact of the matter is that you have been privy to too many things, personal things and I cannot allow you to leave for fear of you discussing this with others. The things you have witnessed could destroy everything I have worked for, and this I cannot allow." V explained calmly, never flinching once.

"So you're letting me go? You want me to leave V? What about all we've shared? All those things you told me? Was it all a lie? A way to con me into bed with you? Into loving you?" Evey had tears in her eyes.

Fear froze her entire body. It washed over her in waves. She felt sick to the very core. How could this be? How could this man she loved so much be casting her aside? They shared so much love and affection, this couldn't be real. It wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening. She had endured so much for him. Torture, starvation, beatings, from his own hands! She had sworn to protect him and his idea; she loved him like no other ever could. He may as well have driven a dagger into her heart and twisted it. She was so in love with this man, she had accepted him so intimately and now he was discarding her? Like some cheap thrill, a seedy one night stand? Another conquest for him to laugh about? The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. That clammy warmth that had engulfed her had been replaced by a frightful chill. Goosebumps formed on her forearms. Her blood was as ice. Tears began to well. The reality of what V was saying hitting her like a brick to the head. How could she have been so wrong about him?

"So what then V? You're going to let me go, set me free to make my own little way in the world above? Try carry on as normal, as if none of this had ever happened? Like you don't exist?" Evey cried, a single tear trickling down her face.

"No Evey, you cannot leave, that I simply cannot allow." V replied, no emotion evident.

Evey laughed nervously and wiped her hand across her face, ridding it of the tear. She threw her hands above her head in exclamation. He was a living contradiction. You must leave but I'm not letting you go? What in god's name did this man want?

"So if I can't leave then what do you do with me V? Kill me!" She cried with a slight laughter in her voice. She seemed jovial, like this was all a joke to her.

V paused and breathed heavily. This was the second time in as many months that he had done this. Handed a woman a death sentence disguised as a Scarlet Carson. He saw Evey's laughing face fade and transform into a look of sheer terror. That pained expression that would haunt him till his grave and beyond. He watched as the stark realisation swept over her and she turned white with fear. Her normally gleaming bright eyes swathed with a veil of grey, losing their shine. Watched as she rubbed the spot on her arm that ached when she woke.

_There. There it was. He saw the precise moment when it hit her._

With his free hand, V slowly produced a long, empty syringe; the needle glistening in the soft candlelight.

"I've already killed you Evey, you're already dead."


	3. Chapter 3

**_(Due to amount of flames I have received, I've decided to write my third chapter a bit sooner than expected. I would like to thank all those bad reviews; I had such a laugh and got exactly the response I expected! THIS FIC IS ONGOING SO I SUGGEST YOU STAY WITH IT BEFORE FLAMING IT. IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH IT THEN EMAIL ME PERSONALLY AND DON'T REVIEW.)_**

Chapter Three

"Veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Evey screamed. She shot up, bolt up right in bed. She threw the bed covers back in a blind panic. Beads of sweat poured down her forehead. Her burning eyes wide with fear. Her dry mouth screaming his name. Her body trembled and shook violently. She was hot and clammy, gasping desperately for air in between screams. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, like she was choking. Her pulse was racing. She was hysterical, uncontrolable.

Almost instantly, the heavy bedroom door flung open, light busting into the room. In a flurry of commotion, V rushed into the room. He swept to the bedside and wrapped his arms around the shaking girl. He held her close to him, pressing his body to hers tightly.

"Evey, my little Evey, it's okay, I am here, I am here. Calm down, just breathe. After me, follow me Evey, big deep breaths, inhale, exhale…inhale, exhale." V inhaled slowly and exhaled slowly several times, trying to calm the terrified girl. He kept one arm wrapped firmly around her back and one hand pressing her head to his steely chest, gently caressing and stroking her shaven hair.

Evey was listening to him now and was trying to regulate her breathing and bring it in time with his own. She felt the rise and fall of his chest and gathered reassurance from that. She felt his heart beating; she could hear it thumping as she kept her head pressed to his chest. Her arms firmly wrapped around him in a vice like grip. Evey rubbed her face against him, she felt safe in his arms, he was protecting her.

V cradled his angel to him for a long time, holding her in his strong grasp. Little by little, her breathing was slowing, her pulse returning to normal, her face losing that hot flush of terror. He eventually released her and took her face in his gloved hands, lifting it gently so she was looking directly at him.

"Nightmare Evey?" He enquired in genuine concern, evident in his voice. Evey nodded.

"It was horrible V, you killed me, I died! You injected me with something and you told me you had killed me and that I was already dead. You told me I was a distraction and that you had to get rid of me. You said I was distracting you from your plans and that I had to leave, but you wouldn't let me leave, you killed me instead V. You told me there was no future for us and that you never wanted any of this." Evey spoke rapidly, her voice desperate, searching. She clung to him tightly for assurance that she was safe, that the evil V had passed by with the night.

V could see she was frightened, it was in her eyes. This dream had really terrified her. It must have been extremely vivid, and descriptive. This wasn't the first time she had experienced a dream of this type, she seemed to have them every now and again when she first came to the Shadow Gallery, but this was the first since she had returned. They were always of a similar nature. V always kills her, with an injection after giving her a Scarlet Carson. He had haunting flashbacks of his moment with Delia Surridge; her expression, that look, her pain, but then forced them from his thoughts. These dreams seemed to occur with no regular pattern, each time with Evey awaking in a screaming frenzy and fits of hysteria. His poor little Evey plagued with these demonic dreams. Each time he would cradle her, comfort and reassure her, just as he was now. He would tell her that all was well and that these images were just that, images. That dreams could never hurt you. He shifted his body closer to her now placed a delicate but cold porcelain kiss upon her nose. _Damn this mask._

"There is no force upon this earth, no law in place nor a man or beast alive that could ever force me to do those atrocities to you. I would sooner butcher the entire world than bring ill to you. I admit, you are a distraction to me, but such a delightful one Evey Hammond and one I would not rid mself of." V spoke softly, gravley, but with an air of authority in his voice. He was so calming, from the minute he took her in his arms, the worries and fear of the dream began to melt away into insignificance.

"I know V, but the dream…it was so vivid…so real. I could even feel the warmth in the room, the venom in your voice, my heart breaking apart. It was just awful." She whimpered quietly, her eyes glassy.

"Evey, they are merely dreams; they cannot bear you any ill or bring you to any harm. They are simply a figment of your over active imagination, surfacing while you sleep. You would do well to ignore them, as they are purely fiction. Above all however, I am here for you when they blight your sleep. You can find solace in me and I vow to make everything normal again." V's voice was so reassuring that Evey couldn't help but feel better. She trusted him, she loved him so. He was right; they were ridiculous dreams with no more ability than to scare her from her slumber. They were completely silly and unrealistic. V would never harm her; she knew that, not for all the TNT in existence.

"Evey my love, I would follow you in this world, the next world, the under worldor the dream world. I will battle your demons and slay your monsters, real or not real. You have nothing to fear, for I vow to protect you until my last breath is taken from me by combat, explosive or sheer old age." He was just so damn comforting. Evey felt herself relaxing, her body becoming less tense and unwinding.

As she gazed upon his mask, that familiar porcelain grin made her smile. She liked how he was already fully dressed; mask, wig, boots, belt, everything. She imagined him creeping about in the darkened room, gathering his clothing and then changing, all the while keeping a watchful black eye upon her.

"Now that's better is it not? There is that dazzling smile, a grin from an angel!" V exclaimed.

"And, Miss Hammond, if this alter ego vigilante does trouble you again, then I shall challenge the fiend to a duel!" V leapt from the bed and grabbed the gold candlestick on the bedside table. He flailed wildly about the room, pirouetting and dancing about as if in mock battle. Jabbing the imaginary monster with his fictional blade, triumphing over this invisible dream beast. Evey laughed at the masked buffoon before her who was fighting with mere air. She chuckled heartily. He knew how to make her giggle, how to lighten her mood no matter how low she felt.

"All that practising with the suit of armour will finally pay off V! If I see him again I'll warn him as to just what he's getting himself involved with!" She giggled coyly, slightly out of breath.

"Well now that is huge improvement, a smile suits you so much better than a frown. I believe that our triumph deserves a king's breakfast Evey. How do you feel about Eggs Benedict?" He bowed before her comically, as a court jester before his queen.

"I've never had them. Oh, and what time is it?" She answered tentatively.

V gasped in mock horror, taking a step back and clutching his chest with both hands, still holding his imaginary foil. Acting like he had taken a knife to the chest.

"Gracious, then that is something we will have to rectify!" He shouted, wagging a finger furiously in the air. "You simply have not lived unless you have experienced Eggs Benedict, especially the ones that I make!" He exclaimed proudly. "Have a shower, dress and follow your nose to the kitchen and I shall prepare a true culinary delight for you my little Evey. And, might I add, it is time for you to rise fom that bed, it is ten past eight you lazy little creature!" V stood and stroked her face lightly.

He trotted merrily from the bedroom and off to the kitchen, taking the candlestick with him. Evey had a feeling she would catch him later on in fierce combat with his silent friend the suit of armour, inflicting fatal wounds to poor old Erik.

-------------

Evey stood underneath the water. A shower was just what she needed, she felt much calmer now, much more relaxed. She loved taking showers; it had to be one of her most favourite things in the world. The one place she could just let her tension, apprehensions and anxieties drain away. She could be alone and lose herself in her thoughts as she was warmed by the water that fell from above her head. She loved the feeling of the water washing over her, cascading down her shoulders and back, pouring over her flat stomach, falling down her lithe legs.

It felt amazing to finally be able to have a shower after so long in that grubby cell. It was so liberating to be washed and to feel clean. She felt the filth of her incarceration being cleansed from her body. The soap, her one true purifier, removing the grim that had plagued. She felt so much better, amazing.

Evey was not going to let that disgusting dream ruin her day. She wouldn't allow it to niggle at her or nag her at all. She put it from her mind and tried to concentrate her thoughts on the other events of the night. Events that were still so fresh and vivid in her mind. Events that were so amazingly fabulous that she beamed from ear to ear just thinking about them. Memories that sent a tingle down her spine as she recollected them in all their graphic detail. She wanted more…

She had to get out of the shower and find V, she had to be near him, with him now. She turned the handle on the wall and the water ceased flowing. She grabbed one of the soft, fluffy towels and wrapped herself up in it. As she dried her hair, she smile contentedly at her feet, where she watched all her worries and fears of the hideous dream wash away down the plug-hole.


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter four_

The shower had felt really good, she felt clean again. She had scrubbed under her finger nails, shampooed her short, spiky hair, buffed her skin, everything and anything to make herself clean again. No more filth, dirt or grime plagued her body, it had disappeared. The stench of months of confinement had been removed, she was finally Evey again.

She began to slather herself with a creamy body lotion; arms, legs, chest. It smelt beautiful, of jasmine and hyacinth laced with lily. It had been left there thoughtfully for her by V, amongst a whole host of other beautification products, probably gained by ill-gotten means. She moisturized herself in front of the huge illuminated mirror in the bathroom, naked and in all her glory. She enjoyed smoothing the silky cream into her skin, her body softening and becoming female once again.

Her glance passed over the mirror as she turned from her right leg to the left, when suddenly she caught sight of herself. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Her attention was then immediately directed towards the countless bruises and cuts her body harboured. They were numerous, all over her dainty body, but predominantly her back. She hadn't realised just how many marks were upon her, she was shocked. She knew she had some injuries but not this many! Some were healing, some fairly fresh, some that ached and some that were sore. _Possibly a few from last night_ Evey mused, but certainly not this many.

The injuries screamed memories at her, painful ones. _He did this you, we exist because he did this to you,_ they cried out to her. A flashback, it flickered before her; gloved hands beating her, pounding her back and sides with a truncheon. The side splitting pain, she felt like she was on fire. Evey shook her head trying to shift those thoughts. She knew that and didn't need reminding. Besides, that was forgiven now wasn't it? She had forgiven V and would not let those thoughts creep into her head. The injuries would fade in time and be no more, just as the memory of her incarceration would.

She scoured the bathrooms many cabinets to look for some antiseptic spray or anti-inflammatory cream, but she was left wanting. Her ailments needed tending to. Some were a bit painful now. It must have been the overwhelming feelings she had experienced in the last twenty-four hours that had made her become oblivious to her condition. She knew when she left her cell she was hungry, tired and broken, but she needed to be with V, that was her only priority. But that priority had changed now to her injuries; they needed attention. _I wonder if V would have anything._ Wrapping herself up in a dressing gown, Evey made her way from the bathroom in search of her masked lover.

It was cool in the Shadow Gallery, and the chilly temperature bit at her bare ankles like imps with teeth. Her hairless head was cold. The atmosphere was wintry, a sometimes undesirable by product of living underground in a stone palace. Evey wrapped her dressing gown tightly to her trying to keep out the frozen air. She padded silently through the main part of the gallery, her bare feet permitting no sound. Her steps being watched by a thousand painted eyes that hung from every wall. The floor was as cold as a tomb, she lifted herself onto her toes to spare the rest of her foot.

"V?" She called out tentatively, with a shiver in her voice. She could feel goose bumps forming on her forearms.

Suddenly V emerged from the kitchen, his inquisitive head just coming into her view.

"Can you help me V? Do you have anything I can put on my cuts? They're quite sore in places."

He strode from the kitchen swiftly over to where Evey stood.

"Where are they Evey? How bad are they?" He enquired.

"They're pretty nasty in places I think, or at least they feel it! Would you have a quick look at them and tell me if you have anything for them?" She asked in a hurry.

"Certainly my dear."

Evey turned and faced away from V, with her back to him. Ever so slightly, she dropped the dressing gown, revealing her white shoulders and the top of her back. There were a couple of bruises and marks but nothing life threatening. They would fade and she would forget they ever existed.

"Evey, there are only a few marks, nothing to concern yourself with. They will heal and fade quickly." Offering his diagnosis to the shivering girl before him.

"No not there, a little further down, in the middle of my back. Check again."

She dropped the dressing gown further, below her breasts now, although he couldn't see them. The gown rested on her hips, exposing her entire back. Her nipples tightened and became erect as they met with the cold air. A chill went down her spine as the cold air clawed at her naked flesh. Casting his eyes south, V saw her injuries. His eyes widened in pure shock. He took a slight step back and bit his lip, drew blood. How could he? How could he have inflicted such injuries to this poor girl? Her back was a map of bruises and small cuts. It looked like she had been beaten by twenty Fingermen. He extended his hand and gently pulled the dressing gown down completely, it flopped lifelessly to the floor, Evey offering no protest. The injuries continued. Her thighs, her calves, a mass of suffering. He must have missed them under her clothing and under the veil of darkness in his room.

A wave of sickness passed over V as he viewed her skin from behind his mask. He was disgusted with himself, he wanted to die. How could he have done this to her? How could he have inflicted so much pain upon this little creature, his little Evey? He wanted to tear his black heart from his chest, clench it in his fist and feel himself dying. Beneath his mask, his face was hot with never ending shame, utter disgrace and pure ignominy. As he examined Evey, every mark upon her body he remembered giving to her. How he had whipped her and heard her scream; how he had punched her and made her cry; how he had electrocuted her and filled her with sheer terror. Every mark that had befallen her he wanted to befall him with a thousand times the ferocity. He loved this girl so much, how on Earth could he have done this to her? _You did it to save her, to free her from fear; _he tried to tell himself, but silently he screamed at himself to shut up. He could not justify this, not even to himself, he did not wish to either. He wanted to see what he had done to his little Evey, his darling little Evey. From this moment on his life would be a half-life, a cursed life. He had injured his angel and for this he cursed himself. He looked towards the heavens for redemption, but he saw God scowl and the saints turn their heads in pure disgust. He could wash his hands in every ocean, but never would he clean this sin from his hands. The anger within him boiled violently, he was utterly appalled, he had pure hate for himself.

He wanted to explain himself; he was desperate to offer her some explanation for his actions. He wanted to tell her that all he did to her was for her benefit. But the words did not come; he could not say what was needed.

But even through all his remorse and sorrow for what he had inflicted upon her, he looked at her with desire. The arch of her back, the roundness of her bottom, the curve of her hips. So sensual. He yearned for her desperately, he craved her. Despite her injuries she was highly desirable to him, striking infact.

"V do you have anything for them?" Eveys' sweet, melodic voice brought him back to his senses again, back to Earth with a crash.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do Evey. Go wait for me in the bathroom and I shall fetch it for you." V replied with a heavy heart.

-------------------

"Ouccchhh that ones sore." Evey whimpered, arching her back and grasping the sides of the sink harder as V smoothed the antiseptic cream into a particularly nasty looking laceration on her side. He jerked his hand away from her skin in the fear of causing even more pain, a tortured look haunted his face beneath the mask.

"A thousand apologies Evey, shall I continue?"

Evey nodded and V carried on applying the pale, acrid smelling cream. His black leather glove lay beside her, discarded in favour of a naked hand so that the application of the lotion may go unhindered. His shame and disgust still etched on his face; he was glad Evey was blindfolded. To date she had not seen him minus his clothing, wig and mask, that would come later. It felt ironic; he caused these injuries and now he was helping to heal them. He did not deserve to touch her though. He had offered to help her apply the cream as some of her injuries were hard to reach alone. Not only was he permitted to help her, to right some of the wrong he did to her, but he was also permitted to see her in all her glory, naked, as she was intended to be. He could not believe she was his.

'_How helpless we are, like netted birds, when we are caught by desire'_ he thought contritely as he gazed upon the blind beauty before him. Her skin was so deliciously smooth, so beautifully milky, just perfect. This moving, breathing, living work of art was here with him now. But he did not deserve this. He did not deserve to touch her, to look at her; even breathe the same air as this seraph. His mind was whirring with all the things he had done to her, all the atrocities he had committed; so many crimes yet no punishment as befitting as the one handed to him now. To have in front of him every day, a living reminder of what he had done to her in that cell. V felt sick to his stomach, he knew the true meaning of shame. He had to explain this to her. She had to know why he had done this. This poor girl, taken from the doldrums of her cell and thrust into an overindulgent world of lust, passion and obsession. He could not contain it any more. He pulled his hand back swiftly and wiped away the residue of the cream. Replacing his glove, he decided that he must say something to Evey or risk losing his mind to torment.

"Does it look better V? Did you put it on all over?" Evey asked, still blindfolded.

"Yes, I should imagine they should start healing a little bit better now." V draped the dressing gown around her shoulders until she was fully covered. She carefully untied the blindfold and turned to thank V again. But something was wrong, despite the mask concealing his face; she could sense something was amiss. His mood had changed, his expression darkened she felt. The mask was smiling but the man it hid was not. There was something wrong.

"V are you okay? Is something the matter?" She asked suspiciously.

Beneath the mask, V let slip a small sigh, undetectable to Evey. He had to do this; he was rotting from the inside out, he could feel his heart shrivelling up. He just had to explain to Evey why he had done what he had done to her. He could not continue this with her until she knew the full truth, something she seemed to have glazed over so well.

"Evey, would you join me in the television room? There are a few things I need to discuss with you, if that is okay with yourself of course?"

"Yeah sure, I'll go put some proper clothes on and I'll be with you in a minute." She smiled as slipped out of the door.

------------------

A few minutes later Evey emerged. Remembering how cold the gallery was, she had wrapped herself up this time, dressed properly. She caught sight of V who was fingering the Wurlizter with his defined back turned to her. She smiled at him, although he couldn't see her.

"What song are you going to put on then V?" She enquired playfully. "Maybe Frank Sinatra? Or perhaps UB40? Or even the Righteous Brothers?"

_Righteous_. The word resonated around V's mind; certainly not a word one could use to describe him or his actions of late. He turned slowly and gazed upon Evey with sad eyes and a heavy heart. _Evey, poor sweet Evey. _Of all his many wonders and treasures in his Shadow Gallery, none were more lovely or precious as the jewel that stood before him. He would trade them all to keep her safe from the world and its perils. But who would save her from him? Who could save her? After all, he was a terrorist, a marked man, a murderer. There was no place in heaven beside her for him now, not after all he had done.

"No songs today Evey, I have no taste for music." He lamented.

"V, I know something's wrong, I can feel it. I might not be able to see it on that smiling mask of yours but I can bloody well sense something isn't right." Evey folded her arms across her chest, waiting for him to answer.

"Then you have sensed correctly, something is amiss my little Evey."

"What is it?" Evey's voice pensive.

V paused, hesitated. _Where to begin? From the start, the very beginning of it all. _V inhaled deeply and launched into his speech.

"When I first encountered you Evey, you were so different to how you are now. Frightened, fear gleaming in your eyes……" He was cut off abruptly.

"Well having three Fingermen about to rape you will do that to a girl!" She laughed nervously. V obviously not amused.

"Evey please, I do not mean just in the alley. I mean your entire life, your demeanour, the way you walked, they fashion in which you talked, your mannerisms. You were terrified, it echoed from you in legions. Even after I saved you, brought you here and took care of you, that crippling fear was still present. It became completely apparent when you fled from Bishop Lilliman's room, fleeing in sheer panic. When Creedy's men came to Gordon Dietrich's home and black bagged him. When you escaped out of the window in horror, in fear. Your whole life; lived on a basis of terror, your world dictated by trepidation and apprehension of the worst."

V turned to face Evey now, his gloved hands folded neatly behind his back. He could see her mood change, her smile drop to a void. He continued.

"And I captured you, oh you were so afraid, so genuinely terrified Evey; the fear etched onto your face. I saw your pain, your suffering, your need for escape, but I did nothing. I simple held you against your will in a dark, friendless world with the belief that you would die."

"Why are you saying this V? Why are you telling me such things?" Evey said her tone lower now, agitated.

"Because Evey you need to know. You need to know what I did to you and why I did it. You came from your cell and reacted in such a way I did not expect. I was prepared for a duel; a skirmish of words and a flurry of female anger. Prepared for you to hate me and wish for my demise, for you to leave me alone in this gallery. But you stunned me. You responded in a manor that I could not have ever imagined. You came from your incarceration; broken, bloodied and bruised. You saw that it was I whom had tortured you, broken you and kept you by force. I whom had threatened you with death, I hurt you in unimaginable ways. Yet you forgave me. After all I have done to you; you offered me your undying forgiveness and you gave yourself to me. But it burns Evey; deep inside me I feel the fire raging. My body was once ravaged by the red flame and now I can feel my insides being set alight by your forgiveness, your kindness. I cannot live any longer, knowing what I did you without offering some form of explanation for my hideous actions."

Evey stood in shock. Such words from his mouth she did not expect to hear. Why was he raking all this up? Why now? She had forgiven him, he knew this. Why was he reopening healing wounds? She fidgeted in obvious agitation, shifting her weight from left to right and then back again. Her gaze darting from portrait to statue. She was becoming increasing annoyed, but she remained silent.

"Evey you do not understand why I did what I did to you; my actions cannot pass by simply without an explanation. This exercise was to free you Evey, to free you from fear. I held you in one cell, to free you from the one you have lived in since before you can probably recollect. I stripped you of your dignity just as this government has. I beat you and hurt you just as you have been beaten and hurt all your life. I burned you, I electrocuted you, and I beat you so hard. I starved you, I spat upon you, and I laughed in your face. I have brandished you with scars and cuts, a reminder of your hell. I watched all hope and optimism drain from you as it had done so many years ago. When I threatened to kill you unless you relinquished my location and identity, you refused. You continued this far longer than I had expected you to. You resisted for so long Evey, I was so proud. And even at the very end of it all, with your execution so close you could touch it, you still refused to reveal any information about me. You stated you would rather die. In doing so Evey Hammond, you accepted your death, ergo accepted that you had no fear. If one does not fear death then what does one have to fear? I have freed you Evey, freed you so that you may once again look at his world through clear eyes and not through the mist that had shrouded them. Freed you so that you may once again live without pain and that constant fear of what may occur next." V sighed now. "I realise that I have given you a lot of information to comprehend, but I need to know, do you understand me Evey?" V felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders; no longer did he feel like Atlas must have done so many thousands of years ago.

Evey was stood very still now; she offered neither movement nor any sound. Her face offered no emotion, no smile nor any frown. Her stillness was eerie; she resembled a granite statue, cold and passionless. She had lost that youthful parlour, only for it to be replaced by a grey veil. She was struggling to process the information offered to her, it showed in her eyes; they were searching, anywhere, anything. Her brain ached, it hurt with such intensity that she felt like her brain would explode.

She had forgiven him and was silently trying in vain to forget what he had done to her. Why was he going over all this again? Why bring it all back into the fore front of her mind? Was he satisfying his own need for redemption? Off loading his guilt onto her so that he may feel absolved of sin?

She knew what V had done to her; she had experienced it first hand. All those long lonely months spent in a cell with no hope of escape, no chance of reprieve. All the beatings, never ending starvation and the pain, that burning pain that consumed her very soul. The constant fear of the door opening and someone walking into her cell to tell her she was about to die. Feeling everything inside her that was human and loving die a sad, extended death. But somehow it didn't seem real, like she had imagined it and it was a playful but twisted figment of her imagination. Like she had never been there, never felt any of it. Like she had read it one of V's many ancient books. It was like she was reading another girl's agonising memoirs. But to have him, her torturer, her one true tormentor explain what he had done and why he had done hit her hard. It hit her right between the eyes and it stunned her. All those things. All that malice he had poured onto her, all that persecution he had subjected her to. The constant cruelty, anguish and torment he had showered her with. It all became very real. To hear it spew forth from his lips made it true, it had happened and it had happened to her. She had glazed over it. She had forgiven him, hadn't she? Pushed it to one side and dusted over it with the joy of being released and seeing V again.

V took a few steps forward and extended his hand to touch Evey's right arm. Her face was devoid of emotion as she pulled back away from him, not permitting him to touch her. She wanted to cry, wanted to weep for all her suffering and all that she had been through. Wanted to hang her head and put her face in her hands and let all that sadness escape through her eyes. To feel the hot, salty tears wash down her face. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs so that the whole world would know her pain. She wanted to scream into that mask, let all her rage and anger go. She wanted to claw at him and hurt him as he had hurt her. She wanted to throw herself into a fit of pure rage and hatred so he would know the turmoil within her. But she was strong; she would not cry nor scream nor hate. After all, V had taught her to live without fear and pain now, and that is what she would do.

"I'd like to go outside now V." She spoke, her voice soft and seemingly carefree.

"Certainly Evey, we can onto the roof and take the morning air." His spirits lifted momentarily. But the little seraph broke his optimism.

"No V. I want to go outside, onto the streets, and I want to go alone."

V knew he was powerless to stop her. He could contain her no longer, he had no right to. She was entitled to join the living world above when ever she saw fit, even if he prayed she would not. His angel, his little Evey was slipping between his finger and he could do nothing to pull her back. He knew his words would be empty and his emotion lost on the seething girl that stood in the middle of the Shadow Gallery. There he stood, deathly still; wig immaculate, clothing crisp and his mask permanently smiling. But beneath it the man was weeping, silently with dry tears.

V moved swiftly and unhooked Evey's small black jacket from the coat peg by the door. Remorsefully he handed it to her, lingering a little too long when she took it in her hands, hoping to brush his leather finger against hers.

"I am sorry Evey, truly sorry. I hope you can forgive me." V knew there were no words he could offer her that could improve the sorry situation.

Evey didn't even seem to acknowledge his words, she just turned and headed towards the door. V shuddered and hung his head in sorrow as he heard it close behind her.


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter Five_

Inhaling deeply, Evey allowed the cold morning air to surge into her lungs. Her anger and confusion was causing her to breathe erratically, shallow and rapid. Her chest heaved and her head throbbed. She tried to slow her breathing down so that she would become calmer. _Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale_, she told herself. It felt so good to be breathing in fresh air and not the foistiness of the Shadow Gallery and all its secrets. She had forgotten just how good it was to simply be outside. It felt like the air was cleansing her, like it was blowing away cobwebs which had gathered in her soul.

The weather outside wasn't clement by any means. It was raining; heavy droplets of water fell to the earth and huge dark clouds blanketed the city, it could have been night. The world seemed as grey as Evey felt. She looked towards the heavens and felt the raindrops hitting her face. It felt fantastic. Just to stand in the outside world and have fresh rain falling on her skin. It trickled down from her shaven head, down onto the sides of her nose and over her warm flushed cheeks then melted into her jacket. She felt like a child, standing in the rain, but this time with no-one to scold her for ruining her clothes.

But no matter how much she was enjoying this freedom, a flurry of emotions was filling Evey. Anger, disappointment, confusion, fear, obsession, lust, hate; so many emotions whirred and whizzed about her mind they made it ache even more. She wanted to scream, yell at the top of her lungs towards the sky and let go. Just finally let everything inside her be released in one long scream. Just to watch and feel all her pain, worries and suffering escape through her little mouth. All those years of sadness for her lost family, all those months living in fear for her life in that cell, all those long hours she had loved V, needed a release. The seething anger she felt towards V at this moment required a vent, it was built up and rising. She felt like a pressure cooker, steaming and boiling, ready to explode.

Slowly raising her hands to the solemn grey sky with trepidation, arms out stretched in a final act of desperation, she opened her mouth and screamed. High pitched and primal, from deep within her, it lasted a lifetime. Like a condemned man with nothing more to lose she screamed. The noise was deafening, but she didn't care. It went through her, piercing her to the core. She stood with her mouth wide open and continued to scream. The sound reverberated off the walls of the alley and echoed, making the scream even louder. But she didn't care who heard it, not even if they heard it all the way over in St Paul's Cathedral. She didn't care if Fingermen came, or even Sutler himself; this was her moment, she needed this.

-----------------

This was it. This was her release.

The culmination of a lifetimes worth of unknowing. All that anger, hate and denial fleeing her now, she could feel it draining away from her body. All the pain she had endured, the cruelties she had suffered, they were all escaping towards the sky now. All those rising emotions bursting out of her in an explosion of noise and decibels.

_This is it Evey…accept it._ A voice from deep inside her screamed.

She was finally letting go. Everything was coming out. The anger she felt towards V and all the things he had done to her. For all the times he had beaten her, split her skin and bruised her flesh. For all the games he had played and all mental cruelty he had inflicted upon her. For all the pain and suffering she had endured at his hands. For all those long months of evil deception. For all those times he had threatened to kill her. For all that stupid fucking fear she had known and felt. It all spilled forth from her in a long desperate scream. She wished V were here now so she could scream into that stupid grinning mask of his, so he could see just how she felt deep inside her. He had taken her from her world and all she had known and turned it upside down. Everything she once felt had died within her. All she had known, had been taught and had come to understand she no longer recognised. Interspersed with these feeling were decibels that rang out for other fears and sorrows, some of which she thought were buried. The sadness of losing her parents and Gordon. The fear of living alone and what might happen next. So many things were mixed in a heady cocktail of emotions, feelings, desires and terror; a cocktail she had been sipping unbeknowingly on for so long.

But as the scream finally died to a hushed whimper, Evey's mind began to clear and she stood silently. The mist of fear and worry that had shrouded it for so long was dispersing. It was like she was seeing things through virgin eyes. Like she was understanding things with a fresh untouched mind. Her head was completely clear. The scream had released her immediate feelings and tension, but something far more profound had removed her deep seated worries. _This was amazing_, how did she feel like this? How had such anger that had reached a fever pitch, calmed to become such a serenity?

He had given this to her. V had rid her of her fears and pains. He had quelled trepidation that had been simmering for too long. He had exonerated all apprehension and dread from her very soul. He had purged her of her constant cold and terror. He had liberated her troubles in a few short months. He had undone in a few months what had taken a lifetime to do. He, through near death, had made her be born again. She had to watch some things die in order that she might live again. V had taken her to the very edge of her sanity in order for her to be liberated from insanity and an insane world. He pushed her to her breaking point, her absolute limit. He had given her her true life back.

She realised now that she was not a martyr, carrying the burden of the world on her shoulders. Nor was not a cowering fool who lived in constant fear of her own shadow. She was not even a pawn with which she could be moved as others wanted to move her. She realised that she was just a young girl, standing in an alley in the pouring rain, with the whole world set before her feet. He had taught her she could move mountains, could leap continents, could swim oceans. He had taught her that she had so much more inner strength than she ever imagined. V showed her that she could stand amongst gods and feel just as worthy. He had given her so much power and she hadn't even realised it. Her soul and mind were as new but stronger. Fresh but with the wisdom of the ages. Unsullied but with the fortitude of a thousand warriors. From her own ashes she was born again. She was a phoenix.

He had given her so much from so little, and had taken none but pain for himself. He had freed her from her tomb of sadness and in doing so sentenced himself to a lifetime of guilt for what he had done to her. For her to begin to see the gift he had bestowed her with, he had to risk losing her by telling everything, all the details no matter how distressing. His body physically scarred by fire, now his soul and conscience mentally scarred by the furnace that now raged within him.

-------------

Evey turned back and faced the door, stretching her hand out to grasp the handle. But she hesitated; her hand quivered, hovering over the large brass setting. Is this what she wanted? Did she want to go back? Did the Evey need the Shadow Gallery?

Withdrawing her hand slowly, Evey zipped up her jacket. She raised the hood and covered her head in shadow as she sauntered down the long alley, and joined the steady flow of pedestrians on the pavement. She blended in perfectly in the sea of black coats and umberellas. She slipped away silently and unnoticed into the bustle of early morning London.


	6. Chapter 6

**_(Sorry this chapter is so short; I wanted to keep this one as simple as possible. All will be revealed later on. And like I said in my note at the beginning, this is a MIX of the movie & my ideas. Enjoy peeps!)_**

_Chapter Six_

The rain was pouring down, in absolute torrents. Without the shelter of an umbrella, Evey could feel the rain drops seeping through her flimsy jacket and into her jumper beneath. Her trainers were perhaps not as waterproof as they had claimed to be, her feet felt squishy as the water percolated through the leather. She hurried her step, weaving and ducking her way past the bustle of paper-pushers and office dwellers that filled the grey and dismal streets.

Evey wasn't sure how long she had been wandering the streets for, those bleak and cheerless streets that offered no solace to a girl with a weary heart and sorrowful mind. She guessed she had been wandering aimlessly for about an hour or so, oblivious to the rain until now. A million things had been running through her troubled mind; what to do, where to go, who to see, go, stay…just so many questions. She had been thinking long and hard about what she wanted now and where she saw her life going. She had partly answered some of the questions, but needed more of a sign. She had a hunch she knew where she would find it too. She decided to go in search of it rather than wait for it to find her.

She kept her hood up and her face concealed in shadow. She wasn't stupid; she knew that every Fingerman in London would be out for her blood, but Sutler most of all. He wanted this dangerous little girl off the streets and in a black bag as soon as possible. And if he found her, _he would torture her_, nothing like what V did to her. Her face would be plastered all over BTN news, her details circulating in every newspaper. She knew she had to keep her head down and profile as low as she could.

She grinned to herself as she passed an all too familiar poster plastered onto a wall:

"STRENGTH THROUGH UNITY, UNITY THROUGH FAITH" It read.

"Fuck off." She muttered to herself as she rushed past the obscenity. She wanted to rip it from the wall, but thought better of it; unnecessary attention as it were.

--------------

Evey shifted her weight nervously, right to left and then back again. This alley gave her the creeps; after her first ordeal in one not too unlike this, she had a slight fear of them, or more of a healthy respect for their 'inhabitants'. She buzzed the intercom furiously for a second time, digging her finger into the button hard. She wanted to get off the streets, it wasn't safe for her. Plus she was soaked to the bone now, her clothes not designed for trawling about in the rain.

_Come on_ she whispered under her breath in anticipation. _If he agrees to it then I've found my sign,_ she thought silently.

Suddenly, the little white box came to life, a red button flashed and a gravely voice sprung from the speaker.

"Hello?" Evey said quietly.

"Yeah? We're not open yet. Who the hell is this?" The voice snapped back.

"It's me."

There was a short pause, like one of slight contemplation; then the voice came again with much gusto and animation now.

"Well fuck me sideways, I know who this is! It's been a while, little Evey Hammond. Gone and got yourself into a whole heap of trouble! Quite the celebrity aren't you my girl?" The voice growled with evident delight.

"Can I come in?"

"Come in? I'd get fucking black bagged if they found you here you know! My arse would be fucked love!"

Evey sighed heavily, her patience wearing thin. "I need a favour; can you help me, please?" She said, anxiously.

"Help you? A favour? Go on then. Of course Miss Hammond, I'd kiss the devil's hot and hairy fucking backside for you! Come on up _babe_." The voice laughed back.

The red light on the intercom turned green. The heavy bullet-hole riddled door that it guarded clicked then buzzed loudly on the right hand side. Evey grasped the handle greedily and hurried inside, closing the door firmly behind her.

Evey wandered the ill-lit corridor. This wasn't the sort of place she wanted to be, but she needed a friend right now, someone she could trust. The surroundings were meagre to say the least. The shabby wall paper was peeling from the walls, pots and pans caught varying degrees of leaks and drips from the ceiling. The cheap brass light fittings dangled precariously from the hall, exposing many red hissing wires. The carpet was torn and showed the naked, rotting wood floor beneath. The low watt light bulbs flickered and the light faded every few seconds; safety and decor were obviously not prerequisites for the inhabitant.

Evey came to another door after climbing a set of extremely steep and crookedly dangerous stairs, some with floorboards missing. _Safe_ she thought silently. She pushed the creaking door gently and a sliver of light lit the darkened hallway.

"Come on in Miss Hammond. Let me look at the new face of terrorist weekly!" The intercom voice bellowed with a heavy, raspy roar of laughter.

Evey stepped into the room and removed her sodden jacket, placing it on the coat hook by the door. The room smelt foisty; old some how. But Evey didn't care, she was here now and glad of it. Here in this most undesirable of places, she felt surprisingly secure. She smiled as her gaze fell upon the embodiment of the intercom voice.

"It's good to see you again, it's been too long." She said sincerely. She took a moment and looked into his eyes, appreciating that this person, an old friend was willing to take such a risk by having her in his home. She valued this, it meant a lot. He asked no questions and she gave no answers. He knew what she was involved with, who she was involved with and what she had done. She knew he wouldn't pry; she liked that trust he had in her, she needed it now. That's why she came here.

"You too babe, you too. You haven't changed a bit, apart from the shaved head! What the fuck happened there?" Exclaimed the rotund man before her.

"Very long story." She sighed. "One I'm not divulging either." Evey said, raising her eyebrow.

"Fair do, but I will say it suits ya', kinda' cute. Now what in the devils name can I do for you?" He roared, his voice resonating from the decrepit walls of the room.

"I need a favour from you, but I can pay." She said, producing a handful of crumpled notes and copper coins from her jean pocket. She extended her hand, offering them to the walrus of a man before her.

He shook his huge head. "Put your money away love, you're gonna' fucking need it more than me I expect! This one's on the house…. vigilante one hundred percent discount if you like?" He snorted with laughter; his belly shook.

Evey bowed her head and smiled. She stuffed the money back into her pocket and then looked back at the over sized man before her.

"Alright, but just this once, next time I pay, okay?" She smiled softly, girly.

"Next time? Fuck me now I'm getting excited!"

Evey laughed with him, it felt good to laugh with an old friend. But now it was time to get down to business. She didn't have much time and didn't want to stay in one place too long, no matter how secure she felt. She handed him a small scrap of paper she fished from her other pocket. He studied it carefully, squinting with his left eye slightly. A smile crept onto his craggy face, his missing teeth started to show.

"You sure you want this? No going back once it's done. Not the sort of thing you can forget easily and definitely not the sort of thing you wanna' get caught with. Land you in a lot of hot shit that would!" He reminded her gravely. But Evey's mind was made up, she wanted this.

"Yes that's what I'm after and I know what I'm doing, I don't need reminding. So can we get on with it now? You ready?" She asked pensively but with a smirk.

"Always ready babe, especially for you! Just didn't figure you for _this_ kinda' favour, but hey none of my business, I just aim to please! Right then…drop 'em." The man said, cracking his knuckles and stretching backwards, loosening up.

Evey carefully but swiftly wiggled out of her soaked jeans and tossed them to the wall near her jacket. Even her knickers felt slightly wet, the rain was so heavy. She quivered slightly as the cold air finally got to her and gnawed at her skin. She hugged herself tightly.

"Come on then, onto here with ya'! Chop chop I haven't got all day! I open up in an hour!" He exclaimed, patting the bed heavily with his spade like hand.

Evey shuffled over to the bed and laid down carefully. She shifted and made herself as comfortable as she could. The walrus like man strode over to the bed and loomed ominously over the shivering girl. She was apprehensive, it showed in her breathing.

"Now Miss Hammond, you're gonna' have to calm down and try and relax or it will hurt even more." He said; his tone more gentle and friendly. He placed his rough hand on the right hand side of her delicate hip; he caressed her soft skin tenderly and slipped her underwear just over her hip bone. He had a finger missing, his little finger.

Evey inhaled then exhaled deeply trying to unwind and loosen up. She wanted this, it wasn't forced upon her, but she couldn't back out now, he was all ready. She nodded her head steadily.

"Okay, I'm ready. Do it." She mumbled. Her eyes wide with trepidation.

"One last time. Are you sure you've thought about this properly? _This is what you want_?" He reaffirmed.

"One last time. Yes and yes." She replied, headstrong.

The portly shaped man grinned wildly.

"Right then little Evey Hammond, this is going to really fucking hurt." He laughed menacingly.


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter Seven_

V had not felt this wretched for a considerably long while, possibly even ever. In fact, he could not recall feeling this low at any point in his life. A great sense of melancholy and sorrow washed over him in stormy torrents. His heart was heavy with grief and much anguish.

He was truly miserable.

That shining, smiling, optimistic mask may as well have been grey and frowning. It may as well have bore the suffering and pessimisms of a man who had lost the most precious thing in the world, like the very essence of his life had been sucked from him.

His stomach was in knots with repent; he felt sick to his very core. His brain ached as thousands of images and scenarios whizzed through his heavy mind. His exhausted body longed for rest, screamed at him in painful spasms, yet he would permit himself none. His tormented organs cried out for sustenance, but he denied himself everything void meager sips of water. This was his flagellation, this was his suffering, and this was his cell.

_Why did you do it you fool? Why did you let her leave? You should have stopped her, something…anything…you utter fool._

He reconsidered his last thoughts.

_To be alone is to be different, to be different is to be alone,_ he mused with a weary soul

He had searched the streets of London for her. Prowled every alley, stalked every avenue desperately looking for a sign that she had been there, a trace of her, a scent. Passed through the darkness until day break in pursuit of the girl. But his hunt was in vain. He found neither her nor evidence of her whereabouts. If she were hiding, she was hiding very well. If not…well V did not want to think of the other option.

Over the past few days, he had wandered the entire length and breadth of the Shadow Gallery, trying desperately to find some solace in his coveted, priceless artworks.

Botticelli's stunning Birth of Venus gave him no comfort. He found no happiness as he gazed upon Rossetti's beautiful Lady of Shallot. Julie London's heart breaking melodies offered no redemption. Even his beloved Ramayana's Sita head gave him no joy. The single most amazing and truly interesting place on Earth, and he found it as dead and as lifeless as a tomb. The air hung like a veil of mourning and sorrow over the entire place.

He was lost. Helplessly adrift.

--------------------

Eventually, V mooched over to his make-up room with all the gusto of a condemned man walking toward his death. He seated himself lightly upon the velvet lined stool. For what seemed the longest time, an eternity even, he stared. Gazed at his own reflection in the illuminated mirror. Studied every contour and line of his mask, every strand of hair in his black wig.

Inside him he could feel his sadness suddenly change to anger, to pure hatred. It boiled and hissed deep within him with an intensity that made his whole body want to implode. His detestation for himself was so ferocious it hurt. His abhorrence for his sickening actions made him want to scream at himself; into that stupid, smirking mask.

His infuriation was building, rising, wanting to burst from him in a violent stream of decibels. It surged in him, the enraged beast inside thrashing against its restraints. He felt his face heat up, a flush of scorching redness envelop his features. It felt as though he was shaking with a heady mix of pure anger and sheer desperation. Through leather gloved hands, he clenched his fist tightly, trying to harness the rage that was intensifying within.

His anger had finally reached its peak. After days of endurance, he could stand this no longer. He was so livid, so utterly incensed that in a split second he tore his mask from his charred face and flung it at his mirror. The glass shattered and splintered. The smiling, porcelain face beamed at him from the floor. The thousands of irreparable shards threw themselves upon the floor and stared back up at V. They mocked him, taunted him and showed him thousands of tiny replica masks, showing him what he really was.

He was no golden, glittering hero. No champion for righteousness, nor a conqueror of evil. He was not the savior of England who leads its people along the path of freedom. He was no knight in shining armour, charging into battle head first. No, as much as it saddened him to admit, he was none of these.

He was simply a terrorist, a vigilante, an outlaw. He was a political activist, a radical revolutionary, a crazed fanatic hell bent on realizing the potential of his home nation.

But above all of these things, he was a man. Made of the same compounds as everyone else. Flesh, blood, skin, organs. He felt emotion just as millions of others did. Happiness, pain, joy, worry. He did what everybody else in the country did. Eat, drink, sleep, shit.

Yes. He was just a man. A man who had lost the most dearest and treasured possession a man could lose.

His anger had subsided and was transforming into a new emotion, one he had not really known before. One he had never had time or the inclination to bother exploring. One that was, in actual fact, totally alien to him.

Loneliness.

It tweaked at him in hungry pangs. Nipped at his heart and gnawed his soul. He did not like this feeling, not in the least bit. This hurt. More than the red tongues of flames at his melting skin. More than the anger that had consumed him. More than a bullet wound to the torso. This really, really hurt. It was haunting.

Then V did something he had not done in a very, very long time.

Carefully and in a very calculated manor, he rested his elbows on the edge of the vanity table and placed his weary naked head into his gloved hands. He sighed as he began to let his entire emotions leak from him, as his feelings escaped him.

Silently his shoulders shook as he wept.


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter 8 _

Evey sat on the end of the bed, gratefully clutching a steaming hot mug of strongblack coffee and swinging her legs like a little girl. She blew her breath into the mug in short bursts, trying to cool the liquid. She took slow tentative sips, savouring the bitter taste in her mouth.

This wasn't the best coffee she had ever tasted; cheap, granulated stuff from a jar. Not like the freshly percolated Columbian coffee that V made for her whenever he could get hold of the sumptuous full bodied beans. That aroma that filled the Shadow Gallery and lured her from her room occasionally, welcoming and reassuring. She sometimes wondered just how often Chancellor Sutler had missed his cup of morning coffee so that Evey might enjoy it instead. She shook her head and all thoughts of V from her mind; she would concentrate on that later. For now she was content to just relax and enjoy this substandard drink.

"How's the coffee?" The man asked. He sat opposite her on the chair where Evey had left her coat. He held a cigarette in between his fingers on his right hand. Evey watched as the grey ash fell to the floor and long lines of smoke headed toward the ceiling.

"Shit actually." She replied with a smile.

"I know. I've been drinking that crap ever since they banned the coffee imports from Costa Rica. Fucking shit it is, like drinking watered down piss. Can't stand it, but it gets me outta' bed in a morning!" He spouted angrily.

"It's drinkable…just" Evey retaliated, taking another sip.

The man raised his cup to his mouth and gulped the rest of his drink down, spilling some onto his already grubby white tee-shirt. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hairy hand, slammed his cup onto the floor next to him, then stretched backwards and reclined into his chair. Evey glanced up at him and smiled.

"Thank you for this."

"No fucking problem sweetheart, any time." He replied.

"No I mean it. You don't know how much this means to me. You could have turned me away, but you let me stay. I know how dangerous it is for you to have me here, so I am truly grateful. You're a true friend."

The walrus man was touched by the girls little speech; he did have a real soft spot for her, always had. Poor little wretch, did she know just how deep she was involved? And who with? But she was a big girl now.

"Give o'er ya' daft cow, what are mates for eh'? I've told ya', anytime Miss Hammond, anytime. Besides, I haven't done that for a while and not to someone as pretty as you, it felt good to get it all out again, really enjoyed myself!" He bellowed.

"It didn't hurt as much as I imagined, I quite liked it actually. It felt good. I'm pleased I went through with it. I nearly backed out when you came at me, but I'm really glad I didn't." Evey explained with a smirk, peering at him over the rip of the mug.

"Ya' might not walk right for a few days ya' know, so you wanna take it steady. Don't go charging about and blowing more stuff up! I'll give ya' something for the pain if ya' want?"

Evey shook her head; she wanted this pain, needed it in a strange way. She wanted to hurt, to ache, to burn. It would be a reminder of what she had done, of the steps she had taken during her freedom from the Gallery. She welcomed the pain; it's seering kiss upon her body and it's scorchingtendrils inside her.

"No thanks, its okay I'll manage." She replied.

--------------------

"Do you know where you'll go?"

"Not really, I have an idea, but it's not decided yet. That would've scared me once, but now well…it just doesn't." Evey sighed happily, content for the first time in a long time.

"Well Miss Hammond, I ain't sure what or who has happened to you over the years, but you're better for it, a lot better. You're stronger now, much stronger and happier than I've ever seen you in fact. You look really well babe." The man commented truthfully.

Evey grinned.

She was happy. For the first time in a longer time. Here in the doorway of a rundown apartment, with a shaved head, a broken, bruised body and twenty-one pounds and fifty-three pence in her pocket, she was happy. She wasn't scared, she had shed her fear, she had faced her death. There was neither Fingerman, no beast alive nor God himself that could make her feel afraid any more, it had melted away completely. Inside she was smiling and she was victorious.

"Victory belongs to the most persevering." She quoted.

The stout man tilted his head; obviously Bonaparte's beautiful prose was lost on him. She just giggled. Evey leaned into the man and wrapped her arms as far around as they would permit. The man reciprocated and nearly crushed her with his embrace. They hugged for a while, as friends do when one leaves another; tightly and with much heart felt emotion.

As the man pulled from the embrace, he dug his hand into his deep pockets and produced some bits of paper. Taking Evey's hands in his, he handed them to her.

"There's about sixty quid there and some food coupons, take them."

Evey furrowed her brow and shook her head furiously.

"I can't accept this, not after all you've done for me just now." She shoved her dainty hands back towards him, trying to give back his generous gift. "Please I can't."

"No Evey, you need this much much more than me. Take it, I insist, it's the least I can do." He smiled sadly.

Eventually she relented, knowing he wouldn't take no for an answer and she was in no mood to argue or protest. She buried them into her inner jacket pocket; they actually would be useful later on.

Evey raised onto her little tip-toes and kissed her friend good-bye with grief in her heart. _If only things were different, if only we lived in a better world_, she mused silently.

They exchanged poignant but sad glances, knowing this was the last time they would probably see each other; such a heart breaking moment for them both.

"Good bye little Miss Hammond, watch yourself." The man said softly, painfully.

She pushed the heavy door open, it creaked as it moved. The rain outside had ceased, the pavement still wet.It was still gloomy but the sun was trying to valiantly force its way through the grey blanket of cloud. Evey sighed quietly but contentedly.She tugged the hood of her black jacket over her head; her face once more ensconced in dark shadow.She stepped back into the alley she had been in only hours ago.

"Good bye Mr Davenport, take care." Evey said in a whisper.

The man blinked for a second, and in an instant, she was gone.


	9. Chapter 9

**_(I'd like to say a big thank you to Belmont-Bellamy. You're a saviour! Cheers Yoda! And for everyone else….answers WILL come later…)_**

_Chapter Nine_

V had heard the approaching footsteps long before they were close enough to be of any considerable threat. He could feel them, could sense them. His keen hearing had been pricked as he heard them advancing toward his home. It was of no consequence, V did not worry.

The would-be intruder would have to pass through the heavily fortified outer perimeter. That alone would be like trying to invade England blindfolded. Even if the intruder did for any reason penetrate the outer perimeter and manage to make it even closer, they would then have to tackle the impossible inner perimeter. A maze of doors, number sequences and dead-bolts. It simply could not be accomplished by a normal man.

And then there was the door. V's front door. Even with an army of a ten warriors would you not be able to open that door. It was at least six inches thick, solid oak, reinforced with three layers of steel. There were no keys to this door; a key could be copied very easily if lost. A code could not, not even if you opened a mans skull to get it; unless you were told, you would never know. So of course there was the sequence to allow entry. It could not be guessed. V had calculated that it would take even the most skilled code breaker with a code breaking machine, at least five years to crack the combination. As V had always maintained, he did not get where he was today by being careless.

He kept half an ear on the footsteps.

-------------------

He went about his business as normally as he could, polishing his knives to a high shine. They were gleaming, he was very proud. He couldn't wait to use them again, soon. He had even sharpened the edges of them, something he did not do nearly as often as he should. He had been doing menial little things like this to keep his mind off the one thing that had consumed his thoughts of late.

Evey.

How had he allowed his feelings to come to this? To reach such a fever pitch? His should not be happening. He should not feel like this. He was a terrorist, not someone who falls in love, lust and obsession. But one thought of the girl and he knew how easy it had been to fall head over stupid heels for her.

He had searched, but it had been in vain. The girl could not be found. She had left no signs, no clues, no scent, nothing. She had been gone only a few days and already he was being driven insane by her absence. He had to find her. He had wept for her but he would weep no more. There would be no mores tears from him for her.

He was incensed with anger, at his own bloody minded stupidity for letting her leave. He was furious, livid, his blood boiled.

_WHY DID YOU LET HER LEAVE?_

He felt as he had felt so long ago. When hate had coursed through his veins. When hate had taught him how to eat, how to drink, how to breathe. Only now the hate had turned to anger. It shot through his entire body in horrendous pangs, racing inside him. His whole body screamed at him in violent fits. He wanted to tear his beloved paintings from the wall. He wanted to smash his precious sculptures. He wanted to destroy his entire collection of beauty and wonderment; such was the price of loving an angel. The fire that had once engulfed his body was now raging inside him. He was scorched, burning, writhing in sheer agony in a mass of red flames. His soul was ablaze and his emotions reduced to glowing embers, pure and without rival in strength. He was being driven to the point of insanity. He was drunk on her, totally and utterly drunk. Not knowing truly was worse than knowing.

But his anger was not only directed towards himself, he had reserves for his _little_ Evey.

Why the hell had she left? Where had she gone? WHERE THE FUCK WAS SHE? He was maniacal in his rage. He had searched every corner of London and beyond. Hunted with his own hands. He had torn the heads of so many Fingermen, releasing his pent up frustration and fury. Buried his knives into them in some vain attempt to transfer and shift this feeling. But it had not worked. He wanted her to know how she had made him feel. How he had wretched in loathing and fear for her safety and for what he had done. Damn what he had done in the past, he cared not now. He wanted to teach her a lesson; _he would teach her a lesson_. She would know what she had done. He would mark her; he would scar every part of her far worse than ever before. He would brand her.

She had to be found. There was no qualm with that. Full stop.

--------------------

V had been so engulfed with his anger, fury and emotions, that he had forgotten the approaching footsteps. Even now, when he should be guarding his precious home, he was too busy thinking about her; this had to stop. She would pay for this, dearly. His mind quickly shot back to the very real and pressing problem that was in hand. He listened hard, trying to determine where about the footsteps were in relation to the very centre of all his hard work.

They were close. Not moving, not walking. Shifting. Like from one foot to another. Left to right, then back again. Light. Hesitant.

He held his breathe for a second, yet it seemed like an eternity. He concentrated even harder now. Desperate, needing to know. His sense heightened.

_Where were they? Not in the outer perimeter, closer. How did they do that?_

If not there, then the inner perimeter? No closer. _Oh god._

When the full horror of realisation set in, V did the only think he could do. Arm himself. To the very teeth.

This intruder was not in the outer perimeter. Nor were they in the inner perimeter. They had passed the impossible door and were in his home. Here in the Shadow Gallery. Somewhere. Hiding.

With trepidation, V crept about his house. He felt his first pang of slight fear in a long time.

_Where are you? How did you get in?_

These questions would be asked later. He would get answers. Voluntarily or forced. Either way, he would be answered. Then he would kill them. Slowly. Painfully.

All of a sudden, out of the corner of his eye, V caught sight of a sillouette. A shadow in the crevice of the main room.

Like a crazed assassin, he sped to the outline of this intruder. In a split second, he had unsheathed his knife. In seemed to be too fast to be real and even V was surprised at how fast he had reacted. Somehow he had grabbed the intruder and now had them pinned to the cold stone wall by the throat. The disgustingly sharp knife pressing into a fleshy throat; V an arms length away. He had drawn blood, a tiny scarlet droplet escaped from the minute wound caused by the tip of the blade that had penetrated the skin.

"Remove your face from shadow or I shall spill your blood here against this wall." V growled beneath his smiling mask. Low and deep, seething. Anger spilling into his voice through clenched teeth.

The intruder was hesitant at first and unwilling to cooperate. So V pushed the blade harder and deeper, another drop of claret red blood trickled down their neck. The intruder winced and gasped in obvious pain.

"Now." He snarled.

Things he would do. The thing he was going to do to this intruder of his home. They were at the mercy of an extremely dangerous man.

The shadow left the intruders face as they removed the hood that covered it. The lights of the gallery revealed the identity of this most auspicious person. The one who had broken through number combinations, a door of steel, locks, dead-ends and codes. The person who had entered his home with all the shame of a prostitute.

V's eyes widened in a heady mix of shock, anger and desire. His brain failing to lock on to and to commit to one emotion alone

_How?_

_It is not possible?_

_You?_

The intruders chest heaved up and down. Breathing shallow and rapid. Eyes wide with apparent concern, burning into him. V scanned the intruder carefully. Drinking in this sight before his eyes. All that anger, fear and fury he had felt climaxing in this one moment; welling, bursting.

"Hello V." Evey whispered.


	10. Chapter 10

**_(Yet another nod to my Yoda; is there anything this girl can't do? Thank you so much._**

**_Be aware, this chapter contains very strong sexual themes & violence! I am not responsible for anyone reading this and getting offended, upset etc.)_**

_Chapter 10_

Evey froze.

Not through fear, she had shed that burden already. She froze through the sheer desire raging through her in spasmodic jolts at the sight of this masked fiend before her. As soon as she laid eyes on him again, she knew she had made the right decision. She could deny it no longer.

The blade pushed further into her skin, sending a shiver of pain through her fragile body. She had already lost a few drops of blood; she didn't want to lose any more. The wound stung as the blade became familiar to its fleshy confines.

Her chest rose and fell again as her breathing became more rapid and shallow. She could smell him. She could feel the sizzling heat radiating from him in scorching waves. She heard the tone of his voice change and falter.

"Evey?" He growled; low, so hushed it was almost an inaudible whisper. He stood gazing upon the object of so much of his love, obsession and desire. Here before him, within his grasp, she had returned to him, and he would not let her go again.

Evey looked at him, her body flecked with desperate beads of perspiration. Her eyes as wide as could be; glowing brown orbs in their sockets, tinged with fire and specks of heat. Her heart pounded. It felt like it would burst out of her chest with the ferocity with which it was beating.

God, she wanted him...could he not feel it? How could he not know? Why else would she have returned to the gallery?

Evey shuddered as the knife dug deeper, her throat growing moist from the sweat mixing with her own warm sticky blood. She gulped hard as the lips of the porcelain mask brushed against her ear and another drop of blood escaped.

"I do not appreciate being made to worry." He snarled, before inhaling silently. The smell of her was skin driving him wild and insane with desire.

"I can explain." Evey replied trying to lick her lips, but failing.

His body heat was consuming her in leagues; making it difficult to breathe, to think. The sharp bite of the knife under her skin was quickly becoming her only true grasp of reality.

"I needed to get out, to get away. I needed time to think." She explained, her voice becoming fraught. She trusted him implicitly, but he was overcome with rage and, dare she think it, lust. She decided to try and be cool.

"Could you have not extended to a basic courtesy and permitted me to know where you were?" He brought his free hand to her flushed face and brushed her cheek through a leather glove. His hot breathe stung as it washed over her.

Evey felt something akin to panic rise within her. Here she stood. Pressed against a wall with a knife at her throat. Not just any knife, _his_ knife. V's knife. She became increasingly aware that she was vulnerable and alone. She was at the mercy of a murderer, but…

Slowly, she lifted her head allowing her eyes to meet the coldblack voidsof the mask.

For a moment neither said a word, but then Evey decided to take action. Trying not to lose her nerve, she reached up, slowly touching the blade at her throat.

"Go ahead, do it. I want you to. Can you do it? Can you really cut me V?" She hissed through clenched teeth.

He faltered. The knife wavered.

How she ended up on the stone floor, Evey was not entirely certain. One moment she was against the wall with a blade in her throat...the next the wind was rushing from her lungs as pain surged through her body.Strong leather hands held down her shoulders, as somewhere next to her ear she heard the gentle clatter of the knife hitting the floor

"I want to know where you have been and I want to know now."

He was almost snarling the words in unchecked rage as he tried to hold her with his body. His knee kneaded into her hip sharply, making her cry out in pain. The man behind the mask tilted his head, looking at her quizzically.

Slowly, Evey felt a hand lift from her shoulder and skim the entire length of her supple body. Flexing his gloved fingers, V roughly grabbed her lower waist making her cry out loudly in desperate pain, jerking and bucking beneath him.

"What have you done, Evey? What are you hiding from me?"

"Nothing, it's a bruise, there's nothing there." Evey cried out, blinking back the tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Liar."

The lower part of her body felt as though it had been ripped apart from the amount of force he used to unfasten her jeans. Evey heard fabric ripping and felt leather fingers dig their way underneath her flimsy underwear. The pain was almost unbearable as his fingers clawed at her hip.

"Who…who did this to you Evey?" He breathed heavily, his body beginning to tremble.

She didn't answer.

"Evey…who?" He asked again; digging harder, deeper with his fingers, pushing his body against her more. "I'm going to kill the man who touched you." He spat.

"I did it for you V." Evey wailed, looking back at him, swallowing the pain.

"You did _what?"_ His words forced, laced with deadly venom.

V's head turned slowly, looking at her naked hip. He allowed his burning eyes to fall upon the small mark, angry and raw. Inscribed in her milky skin was a small black letter V.

His breathing altered and his body changed in a posture and tone she had never seen before. Behind the mask, V's breathing quickened in to a fierce and fiery rage.

"You want a brand Evey? You want to be branded by me? You want me to mark you as my own? I will give you a brand you can never be rid of. No man can touch you. No one can. I'll make it known forever Evey; I'll make your brand echo through the ages. You will be known as my possession, I will own you."

Quickly and with amazing speed, he leaned across her, almost crushing her with his weight as he grabbled for something near to them on the floor. Pulling back she could see it was a polishing cloth, black, silky and cool.

Evey knew what he was doing and allowed him to continue. She wanted this, she needed this; but she wanted it on her own terms, not his. She would bide her time, she would let him go so far, and then she would strike.

Roughly, he blanketed her eyes and tied the cloth tightly at the back of her head into a sharp knot. Depravation of sight only heightened her other senses. The smell of him intensified. She could hear every tiny movement he made. His body straddling hers became hot and it inflamed, scorching her in need and desire.

Suddenly she could taste him. A rush to the head. She felt his mouth bearing down upon hers. His hot lips sucking and trailing across her own. His rough tongue deep inside her mouth, rolling around her own, stroking and roving. Their lips joined in a union of possession and obsession. He nibbled at her neck sharply and with desperate bites, tasting her blood he had shed. Evey winced as he delivered his unmerciful brand of passion upon her tender skin.

His arousal was obvious, straining in its confines in desperation for her. Evey shuddered. Moaning loudly as teeth sunk into flesh; lips and tongue seared and sucked away her very essences. It was almost time.

She wanted him as badly as he wanted her, but she would make him work for it. She would not surrender and submit to his taking her, marking her, or at least on _his _terms. She would prove he could no longer dominate her, not even in this. They would be equals and she would leave marks of her own.

Evey kicked back. She resisted, successfully at first. She flailed her legs and beat her tight fists against his steely chest in apparent uncooperation. She cried out and thrashed beneath him, making know her apparent displeasure. She would not make this easy; she wanted him, God she ached to have him, but she would not give herself up without a fight. He had taught her that.

V felt a surge of potent adrenaline pump through his body. A cocktail of anger, lust and rage swirled about inside him; he did not know what to feel. He was angry she had broken into his home in a swath of secrecy. He lusted after her as she wriggled in protestation beneath him. He raged at the fact she was fighting him, acting as if she didn't want this when he knew she did. He desired her with all he had in his body.

With powerful hands he grasped her wrist tightly, making her cry out. He forced his entire body weight onto her, muffling her wriggling. Raising her arms to above her head, he slammed them to the floor; he brought his naked face to her ear and growled deeply.

"I want to know where you have been."

"No." Evey snarled back, trying to bring her knee up to his groin.

The passionate kissing and harsh biting began again with hungry mouths. Fervent, fanatical, adoring, zealous. Unable to contain himself from enjoying her, V released Eveys wrists and ran his greedy hands over her body. He ripped her shirt from her; a spray of buttons filled the air then hit the floor, bouncing. She was bra-less, it excited him further.

Perfect, smooth, milky orbs, young and firm; the object of such beauty. He ran his fingers around her pink nipples, delighted to learn how such a small caress incited such a reaction. They hardened as the cold gallery air washed over them. With voracious hands, he grasped her breasts firmly; groping, stroking, feeling. Evey arched her back in unrivalled delight; laying there in only her underwear that would not be in place much longer.

V felt no need for delicacies, there would be plenty of time for that in the future. He felt the desperate almost naked body beneath him grow tense, apprehensive. He had her; the object of all his love, irritation, fury, rage, lust, desire here at his mercy. Oh she could fight, but it would be to no avail, he would have his prize; and then things changed.

V was on his back; with Evey over him, straddling him. His arms were pinned beneath her knees and there was a knife against his throat digging into his flesh. V looked up in to Eveys serious and determined face, still held blind by the cloth. Her breathing was rapid, and lustful, almost equal to his own.

'Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right here, right now?'

'I cannot.' He replied hoarsely, his desire for her mounting even more.

The blade dug in deeper, bringing blood to the surface of the scarred skin. Evey thought of ripping away the cloth and looking on his face. She thought of merely moving the blade, quickly and determinedly, slicing his throat and letting his blood flow here, but she did neither.

She wanted him, she needed him.

With the knife still in his throat, she moved back on his body till she was above him. She could feel his erection; thick and hard, growing harder by the second, straining against his trousers. Evey could not deny how wet it made her. She pushed the knife in deeper, causing a gasp from V.

A thin line of red was beginning to slick his neck.

'What is your greatest weakness?' Evey asked; her breath short and raspy.

V did not answer. He knew he could buck her off, but so great was the determination of the hand with the knife at his throat, he dared not try less she slit him open. She could kill him at any second and they both knew it.

'Tell me?' Demanded Evey, putting an amazing amount of strength in her ability to hold him. She moved her hip against his, grinding slowly and determinedly, feeling pleasure rush through her while he groaned.

'What is your greatest weakness?' She repeated.

Evey felt him shudder, trying to move with her. She tightened her legs, moving her weight; forcing him, preventing him from moving with her.

'Evey…please.' His voice was no more than a hoarse whisper.

'Tell me.' With her free hand, she ranked at his shirt, ripping the fabric as she sought flesh; still she moved over him, letting her own pleasure and need escalate.

V did not know how much longer he could wait. Each move, each touch was sending fire through him. It was a burning and a torture far worse than he had ever experienced at Larkhill. Even the knife, the feel of his own blood running to the collar of the shirt Evey was ripping open, sent spasms of lust and need through him.

Her movements on him were increasing. Her free hand had opened his shirt, running across his chest, squeezing his nipples between her small fingers. Even with the cloth at her eyes, he could see lust, need, and desire burning through the fabric. He could no longer take it no longer.

'You.' He gasped. '_You_ are my greatest weakness.'

The knife left his throat and lips tore at his own, searing, tearing, and hungrily probing. She was trying to suck out his very soul.

V moved them. Evey was again under him and his attention suddenly turned southerly. He clawed his fingers over her firm abdomen, leaving red nail marks that trailed past her belly button. He showered her flat stomach with short hot kisses and jagged bites, leaving temporary brands upon her skin.

_A brand _thought V. _My real brand will come later, you will be known as my own forever,_ he mused with a lust filled mind.

In an instant, Evey's knickers had been ripped from her, exposing her downy triangle of perfect chestnut curls. V gasped. He had never witnessed anything as beautifully fascinating in his life.

Evey's hand covered his own, leading him, showing him what she wanted. He understood.

In another instant, she felt fingers; deep, sliding and prying, feeling her moist readiness of her succulent oyster. She writhed in total pleasure, savoring his touch deep within. She no longer wanted to fight, or to resist, but she was not powerless. She would hold him under her spell, in her total control; she was willingly submitting and partaking in pleasure with this murderer. She wanted this, willed it upon herself; this was the reason she had returned to him.

As she moaned and pressed against his hand, she reached for him. Letting her fingers bend over the top of his trousers, pulling him closer. How she managed the buttons or the zippers she didn't know, but she did. She released him, gripped him; stroked him as his fingers moved within her.

His prize, his aim was so close, so near he could feel it. He would deny himself no longer and now she was… V shook. A lifetime of waiting about to climax in the culmination of a beautiful, violent union. He would have her; own her in every sense of the word.

It took but a moment for V to move on her. His weight once more bearing down on top of the goodness beneath him. She could feel him, forcing himself between her legs with all the power of a man possessed. His smooth member poking into her thigh hard as it sought its goal.

Evey feigned a last ditch attempt to delay him, a mock final resistance and show of her power. She tried to block his advances with her slender legs, but the sheer strength of him was too much. She knew this would excite him further. His breathing becoming erratic, his desperation and want becoming evident. He had her completely pinned to the floor.

In one desperate push, he drove himself deep into her, into her very entrails. He let slip a guttural grunt as he became ensconced within her warm fleshy quim. Evey gasped and bucked as she was filled, as she took all he had to offer; but V only held her down harder.

They were as one. There were not two bodies, but one. Together in a world of utter hedonism. The gallery was on fire, they were burning alive. Their passion for one another had ignited and set this secluded palace alight. The paintings screamed as their canvass caught fire. The sculptures cried out as their granite bodies cracked with the intense heat. All other objects shrieked and howled as they burned in this underground hole.

V's thrusting became harder, needier. Evey clung to him with legs wrapped tightly around him, encouraging him.

'_Harder_.' she whispered and moaned into his ear. '_Faster_. Yes,_ harder_.'

He was claiming her, taking his prize without shame or abash. He was trying to assert his dominance over her and she would know she was his and belonged to no other. He was rough and domineering, but Evey loved it.

'Harder.' She cried louder, making it impossible to know who was in control.

It was how she imagined it, how she wanted it. He let go the occasional grunt of pleasure or groan of ecstasy. Evey felt her naked back catch on the cold stone floor, undoubtedly leaving evident marks. He said he would mark her, and mark her he would, but the crowning brand would come later.

V felt the lofty heights of pleasure, transported to a world where only himself and this girl, nay this Goddess, could go. The desire and lust ate at him in hungry pangs; consuming him, fuelling his energy and spurring him on. He told himself this girl would be taught a lesson, that he would teach her who she belonged to. He had to hear her say it, he needed to now.

"Say it Evey, I want to hear you say it." He growled between deep inhalations and violent thrusts.

"Anything…I'll say anything V." The words escaped Eveys lips even before she had time to consider her reply, as if preconceived. She struggled to concentrate on anything other than the explosion that was building between her thighs.

"Tell me you're mine…tell…me you belong to me…." Another groan of ecclesiastic pleasure.

"You V, only……you. I'm yours…."

"SAY…….IT AGAIN, TELL ME…."

Evey began to feel dizzy as a burning sensation raced from her abdomen to her head. She felt so much pleasure it was painful, unrivalled in form. Words could not describe the feeling. She thought she would die from the utter sweetness she was experiencing. The spasms of the greatest torture were engulfing her. Again it rose inside her in brutal waves, the perfect explosion.

"SAY IT!" V spat, his thrusting almost reaching its goal.

"I'M ALL…..YO..UR..S!" Evey screamed with all the air in her lungs.

As Evey arched her back and allowed this most delicious sensation to consume her, V drove himself into her in one final violent thrust. He was on fire; he was burning all over again. But where pain once consumed him, it was now only the very finest pleasure one could imagine. Not in his most vivid dreams could he have guessed something could be so sweet and perfect.

His moans and his breath catching as he emptied himself into her. Evey felt his warmness inside her and she smiled. It was done. He belonged to her as much as she belonged to him. He had claimed her, but she had claimed him more so. She had given him something he would never be able to live without; she owned him now. But they were as one.

Both lay very still for what seemed an eternity; just enjoying the moment, relishing in this final act of intimacy they were sharing. There was so much they wanted to say to each other, but each knew without having to say the words. There was love there; both knew, they could feel it. Total and utter admiration, devotion, affection, veneration and adulation. Their love would go unrivalled, such was their passion.

Eventually, V raised his buzzing head and brought his face close to Eveys ear; she was still blindfolded. She could hear him breathing, hot and satisfied. His hand lovingly and dangerously caressed her exposed neck, his grip tightening ever so slightly. He spoke soft and low, but with a tinge of malevolence.

"I have claimed you for my own Evey, you belong only to me. I would kill for you, I would butcher the whole world. Run and I will follow you. Hide and I shall find you. Leave again and I will bring you back. I am going mark you and I am going to give you a brand you shall never forget."

Unexpectedly for V, Evey turned her head; her lips resting on his ear. V suddenly felt something at his throat, cool and sharp. His blade.

"Draw my blood with your knife again, and I will kill you. Make no mistake of that V."

Silently, Evey raised her head to V's naked chest. She lowered herself directly above his heartSlowly, so he could see what she was doing, her lips touched his flesh. V gasped at the force of her bite, bringing about a new round of desire for her. She bit; deep and hard, bringing blood to the surface. V shuddered, his hand gripping her shoulder. Without raising her head or releasing her bite, she reached for his mask, pushing it towards him. He slipped it on quickly as her head began to rise, reaching for the cloth at her eyes.

"Now you're mine as well. You're not the only one who can leave a brand." She snarled.

_A brand?_ V smiled, musing silently. _I am going to show you the true meaning of the word…_


	11. Chapter 11

_**(Yoda, one who surpasses literary genius.)**_

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_Chapter 11_

The Shadow Gallery was immersed in total silence as Evey awoke from her deep slumber.

There was no sizzling coming from the kitchen where V usually cooked a feast of a breakfast. There was no soft music drifting sweetly from the glowing antiquated Wurlizter. Neither was there any clanking of metal of V setting about poor dear Erik. In fact there was no noise at all; not even the normal groans and creaks the cavernous stone palace usually made as it shifted and stirred from its nightly rest.

The entire gallery was completely still and utterly silent.

Evey was reluctant to wake, her heavy arms laid languidly above her head. She had neither inclination nor desire to move just yet. Lazily she opened one eye. Then slowly the other. She blinked a few times, trying to adjust her sight to the low lighting of the room. She stretched her back, trying to shake off the delicious sleep that still clung to her. Her eyes stung slightly as her vision began to focus on her surroundings.

She was confused at first. She saw not the usual hoards of dusty books piled to the ceiling, but exquisite pieces of decadent artwork. Not her normal small round room, but a huge lofty abode more rectangle in shape. She was not lying on crisp white linen sheets; she was nestled into sumptuous black cotton sheets and under a heavy black duvet. As the lethargic cogs in her brain began to rotate once more, it dawned upon her that she was neither in her room or her bed at all. A smile crept onto her sleepy face as she deduced correctly that she was in Vs room.

However, V was no where to be seen. Next to her was an empty space where her lover should be, the duvet tossed to one side. She sighed lightly, wishing he were here now, doing to her what he did so well and so perfectly last night. His side of the bed had long gone cold Eveys nimble feet discovered, as they explored it for remnants of her masked fiend. His musky scent lingered like a mist over his pillow. She inhaled it deeply, allowing it to fill her and induce a deeper love and more memories.

The corners of her delicate mouth turned up as the smile slowly morphed into a beaming grin. A million luminous memories of the night before flashed through her mind; little snippets of what they had done danced tantalisingly before her.

_-------------------- _

"_You are my greatest weakness."_

_-------------------- _

"_Harder, faster, yeeessss…"_

_-------------------- _

"_Oh god…Eveeee…"_

_--------------------_

She remembered fevered moans, recalled deep prying fingers, recollected heady explosions, and commemorated her perfect union with her new lover. He had made her feel like no one before him ever had. The feeling of having him on her, inside her, with her made her beam even more. He was quite simply amazing; he had truly blown her away. He had made her body scream and her brain implode with pleasure, desire and lust. Any doubts she may have had about his prowess in the bedroom were certainly unfounded; the god like man had proved that. Had she known just how fantastic he was, not to mention how well endowed he was, she would have pounced a lot sooner!

_He was good, he was real gooood, I had never had it that good before! _She mused with a satisfied heart.

He had replaced poetic words with raw carnal action. Replaced gentlemanly mannerisms with rough lusty dominance. Replaced a slick quick wit with a filthy roving tongue.

She had succumbed to a murderer. A dangerous man whom kills for utter revenge. One who takes pleasure in extracting his own brand of justice on the multitude of villans and sinners of London. A man who shows unrivalled contempt for authority and fascism. One who had total disregard for his country's government and leaders. A man who truly, madly and deeply loved her.

But he had succumbed to her just as she had to him. She had made him submit, offering him something he had never tasted before. Something he would now never be able to be without. He would be beholden to her for an eternity; unable let the sweetest flavours of her fade from his lips.

Evey was turning into something she never thought she could be, a very greedy girl. She was hungry for him; she wanted to taste him again, to savour him. She wanted to be as they were last night, ensconced in one another. Alone in their fiery hedonistic palace.

She wanted to do all they did and to do it all the same places. Their multi-orgasmic night of sin had taken them all over the Shadow Gallery. Kitchen after he chased her in there then made love to her on the table. In the television room after he tried to get some reprieve from her sexual demands but he couldn't say no to her. Against the bedroom door when they couldn't wait for the bed. Every where and more.

She wanted him to come and ravish her again just as he had done last night. Her lithe body ached as she thought of all the things she wanted him to do to her; all the things she wanted to do to him, what she had done to him already. How only a few hours before she had taken him with her hands and caressed his smooth, perfect length. Then taken him in her mouth and shuddered as he melted with sheer ecstasy. How she has ensconced him within her most intimate parts and felt him trembling with unrivalled lust. How she had made him moan, then build to a crescendo of a climatic scream of her name.

She shuddered as desire and lust began to rise within her once more, her passion building. She felt the first forming of what would eventually be a need she would never be able to deny. One that would only be satisfied when she was impaled upon V's rather firm and willing member. She would wait no more; she wanted to find V. She decided she was sufficiently awake enough to attempt a venture into the main part of the gallery.

Evey swung her legs over the side of the bed. But as she attempted to rise from her resting place, Evey found her arms most uncooperative. Her legs were willing but her arms were not. She tried to sit up but found the attempt futile and hindered. She glanced above her shoulders, to discover that her wrists were bound together by a piece of soft black leather, which in turn held her fast to the bed post on a short lead. She had some movement of her arms, but her hands were firmly tied above her head.

Evey rolled her eyes in obvious annoyance; V playing another game no doubt, one she didn't find amusing. She didn't like to be tied up; not even by her lover, bad memories. This was not in the least bit funny. She was getting agitated already.

"Ha ha V, very entertaining. Yes I'm your captive, you're the captor. You can do as you want with me, I submit." She called out into the silence with a sarcastic tone.

She waited a few seconds. No reply.

"V?"

No reply. The void remained silent.

"V this isn't funny now, I've had enough. Please untie me."

But again her pleas went unanswered.

"For god sake V, just untie me! I'm not laughing, untie me!"

A slight wave of panic came over Evey as her cries fell upon a deaf gallery. She contorted her body in an attempt to free herself. She wriggled ferociously and fought hard against her bonds; but they budged not an inch, permitting her no leave from the bed. The harder she battled the tighter they became, beginning to cut into her delicate skin. She managed to get to her knees in an act of desperation and began nibbling at the leather. She was doing well until she bit her lip deep, causing her to cry out in pain and to cease chewing. It was no use, he had her truly bound to the bed. She ceased struggling and reclined onto her back again. Eveys breathing was starting to become erratic as the panic within her rose to greater heights. Beads of perspiration began to appear in her hairline.

Suddenly in the silence, Eveys sharp ears pricked. She heard the familiar clicking heal of a black, highly polished pair of boots upon the thickset stone floor. They seemed to be pacing about the gallery, up and down as if looking for or doing something. The boots were walking slowly. If it was V, slower than he usually walked, normally he dashed about the place like a man with no time. The boots were slowly heading towards where Evey was being held captive, she could tell as the sound became louder. Evey let slip a sigh of relief and let her body relax a little. Finally she could ask V to release her from these ridiculous and pointless bonds. The boots eventually came to a halt outside the room where Evey was.

The bedroom door eased open, allowing the bright gallery lights to fill the room and illuminate its many recesses. Evey rolled onto her stomach and with wide eyes turned to look at the figure in the doorway that was indeed V. He stood about five feet away from the bed; hands behind his back, shoulders straight and legs slightly apart. Evey opened her mouth to ask him to free her, but V spoke first; soft and low, his face partial hidden in shadow.

"With sweet May dews my wings were wet, and Phoebus fir'd my vocal rage; he caught me in his silken net, and shut me in his golden cage. He loves to sit and hear me sing; then, laughing, sports and plays with me; then stretches out my golden wing, and mocks my loss of liberty." He purred, almost singing but not quite.

"Afraid I'll run off again are you?" His quote mocking her capture, taunting her cruelly. Evey wriggled to show her disdain at being held captive by these painful bonds, but they only bit deeper into her skin.

V answered with not a word, he just smiled.

"V please will you let me go? I don't like this; it's not funny. Please untie me." She snapped angrily at him.

"Why Evey?" He finally replied, a look of genuine curiosity beneath his mask.

"Because this _really_ is not amusing V. Now let me go."

"If I let you go, you will only flee again.This way I know where you are, I know what you are doing. You are at my mercy now."

"What? Going to imprison me again are you?" Evey spat, her voice dripping with disdain.

_Ouch_. V tittered silently at her little dig, but it caused him no great concern.

"Not at all my love."

"Then let me go! Untie me now!" She screeched.

"All in due time my little Pegasus, all in due time. First I have something to give you." V chuckled. He imagined himself as the hero of the sun Phoebus; who had captured the beautiful but wild Pegasus for himself, and kept her bound in his gilded cage. But V had no intention to keep his Pegasus caged, merely chained.

With one finger, he touched the small hollow at the base of her throat, admiring the small healing knife wound he gave her. He traced a line between her heaving breasts down to the base of her stomach.

"You are so beautiful Evey, heart breakingly so. What man would not die to have you?"

"Well you wouldn't have to die….." She spat back at him with an acid tongue and a wry smile, as she strained against her confines.

V smiled; a beauty of an angel with the tongue of a harpie. He did so love her.

"So. Your gift…" He said trying to get back to the matter in hand, until Evey interrupted.

"You can give it to me when you have untied me and I have put some clothes on!" Evey retorted with an infuriated sigh, becoming increasingly aware of her apparent nakedness.

"Ah, but there wherein lies the problem my dear Evey. For if you are untied I fear you will not accept my gift, to remain bound is the only way I can give it to you." He replied.

"What the hell is it V? Is this another one of your oddities? Like the knife thing yesterday? If it is, this isn't funny and I want untying." As soon as she had mentioned the knife, the knick in her throat began to sting again as a reminder.

V tilted his head and gazed upon the bound seraph in his bed, the things he could do to her. He brought his hand to her chest and with a leather finger he allowed himself to run invisible circles around her nipples; fascinated as they hardened under his touch, delighted as he made Evey squirm. Oh, how he wanted to kiss them, to take them into his mouth and run his tongue over those sweet little things. But he would wait. _Later,_ he mused

"So you do not accept my gift?" He purred, still keeping his fingers upon those perfectly pert breasts of hers.

"How can I accept it when I don't even know what it is? It could be anything V." The agitation in her voice becoming more and more evident. She was fidgeting uncomfortably, but with a building desire. She wanted to fight this. She was angry with him, mad as hell at him; she didn't want to succumb like this, helpless and bound by leather to his bed.

"Alright. Can you guess what it might be or shall I help you?" Slowly running his curious finger down to her belly button and bellow to her downy mound.

"For god sake, just bloody well tell me! At least then you can let me go!" Evey began to shout; a mix of anger and desire rising from her stomach.

V stooped to the side of the bed and lowered himself gently to one knee. He brought his other hand from behind his back and showed Evey exactly what her gift was. It wasn't the present she expected; but then again, what sort of present could she expect from a revolutionary?

A branding iron. Cool, smooth and unused. A small curve of twisted metal at the end of a long thin pole.

A lump began to rise in her throat as V brought his grinning face close to her ear. He poured his malice-tinged words into her like a deadly honey, dangerous and low. His warm breath sweeping over Eveys face, fanning the flames of passion that were burning within her.

"I told you I would brand you. I told you that you would be known as my own. That my brand would echo through the ages Evey. I am going to mark you and you shall never forget to whom you belong." V smiled from behind his mask. Eveys eyes widened. The trepidation and anxiousness etched into her dainty face.

"Wha...what are you going to do with that?" She could feel herself begin to shake uncontrollably.

"Shall I offer a hint? Or does the nature of the item suggest what I am going to give you?" It was his turn to be sarcastic.

"You must be mad! You're crazy!" Evey cried, wriggling about in vain.

"You branded yourself of your own free will Evey at the hands of another man, but that is a brand I do not trust. For you to truly belong to me, I must brand you myself." V said; raising his head, brushing his porcelain lips over Eveys now flushed cheek.

"But V, the tattoo…it's for you. It's a V, your symbol, your initial branded into my skin…I did this for you." Evey seethed desperately, trying to convince the murderer before her that she had done this for him. This was the second time she had allowed herself to fall under his touch, to be at the mercy of this most deadly assassin.

V twisted his head quizzically, the grinning mask trying to take in why the seraph before him could not understand what he was saying. He sighed lightly, pushing his fingers further down, little by little.

"As I explained, the tattoo is a brand I do not trust. I especially do not relish in the idea of another man touching you to put such a brand upon your skin. With my brand I shall burn his touch from you, I shall replace the tattoo with one of my own, one that _I_ am happy with." He growled. Evey exhaled deeply, her breathe hot and lusty.

Evey knew her attempts to deter him from his aim would be futile. V was a man who had a very persuasive way of making others bend to his will, Evey no exception. Besides, he was right. She had agreed to have a tattoo of her own free will; no coercing, no force, just totally of her own decision. She knew he wouldn't rest until he had rid her of the mark from another, until he had cleansed her skin, then dirtied it with his own brand. She knew this would hurt, far more than the tattoo did.

From behind his façade, V watched the expression upon Evey's face alter. It became more relaxed, her features lightened. She began to bite her lip gently, and her eyes fluttered lightly like butterflies wings. Maybe because she was slowly agreeing to wear his brand. Or maybe it was because with his fingers he was gently coaxing and stroking her sweet clitoris.

"Are you ready?" V asked quietly from behind his grinning mask.

Evey nodded hesitantly, her back slightly arched as she felt V's fingers move from her twitching desperate orifice.

V gave a single nod and reluctantly stopped playing with his prize. He stood once more and shuffled about for a moment, leaving Evey writhing in anticipation and a hungry desire. She watched with amorous eyes as he poured a pungent smelling liquid from a little brown bottle onto a cotton pad. He turned back to Evey and wiped the small extravagant black V on her hip with the disinfectant several times.

Then carefully lit the fat church candle by the bed, a small line of smoke rising from the dead match. The orange flames' reflection danced in Eveys wide eyes as it consumed the wick. After a few moments, V placed the small branding iron into the flame; twisting and turning it, making sure the whole brand was hot. Evey watched as the cool grey metal transformed to almost a glowing molten red; watched as the edges of the iron began to fleck with white heat.

"Do you want this?" V offered a thick piece of leather to Evey. "To bite down on?"

Evey shook her head, determined not to cry out in pain. She wanted to be strong; desperate to prove to him that she could take the gift he would bestow upon her. Although she was apprehensive, she welcomed the brand, she wanted this. It would be superior to the tattoo, mean more to her than the small inky ornate V etched into her skin. It would mean more because _he_ had given it to her. But dear god would this hurt more? She figured yes.

The sweat in her hairline now trickling down her hot face, not through fear, in sheer trepidation. Her exposed chest rising and falling in rapid succession, her damp breasts glistening with sweat. Her brain was buzzing, she felt faint.

Placing his gloved hand upon her stomach, V brought the brand closer to her skin, Evey could feel its heat as it hovered above her quivering body. She cast her eyes to the ceiling; she couldn't watch the scorching metal turn her beautiful skin black. She desperately wished this would be over soon and that the pain wouldn't be too severe.

"V…touch me…touch me again please…" She whimpered.

Brand in one hand, V's free fingers soon found their back to the place they loved the most. That delightful little hole that housed him so well. That sweet little cavity that promised so much exquisite pleasure. That darling little bud that with one touch could ignite the whole body into a raging inferno. With his fingers, he began to resume the stroking and caressing between her thighs; keeping his gazed fixed upon Eveys face. He watched with sheer enchantment as she twisted and squirmed beneath his touch. He watched with complete delight at her obvious bliss, at her sudden elation to the heights of pleasure. As his fiery touch began to reach its goal, Evey moaned and whined with ecstasy. She was so near to her climax, she almost forgot what V was about to do to her.

But in one sudden rapid motion V brought the iron down and it made contact with Eveys hip, swiftly bringing her back from sexual oblivion.

Her whole body went rigid as a cocktail of unrivalled pain and pleasure coursed through her body. The sweet orgasm and the horrendous pain fused to create an explosion that words simply could not describe. She could smell her skin burning. Somehow she managed to surpress her every natural reaction and not buck and jerk beneath this unimaginable pain. Rapture and anguish forced together in one terrible union.

It took all her strength not to scream with pure agony, and all her might to stop herself from screaming his name through the orgasm he had given her. The white hot brand kissed her skin and leather fingers set her very soul on fire. She felt sick with the intensity of pain she was feeling; it ran through to her very core. She tossed her head back as the heat of passion and the agony of the brand washed over her in fierce droves. Her entire body shuddered as the orgasm reached its peak, and the pain crowned her body.

After what seemed an eternity, V removed the brand from her skin and smiled as he cast his eyes over the new tattoo. The skin was beginning to swell as it reacted to the torture it had just endured. The mark was a mix of black ink and red skin; it was raw and angry. The flesh where the brand now lay was slick and shiny; it seemed to writhe in pure agony.

But V felt how Da Vinci must have felt after creating his famous masterpieces. He burst with pride, obsession and ownership, thrilled with his work. He stood and gazed upon his beautiful creation. The artist, his muse and his piece. He admired not only his brand, but the wet girl that bore it. Her entire body glistened with a sexual sweat; she had never looked more alluring to him. Desperate yet satisfied. Vulnerable yet a predator. Mortal yet a goddess. He wanted her, desired her so much it hurt him. He ached for her liked never before. There was definitely a potent aphrodisiac in having power over another; especially over a beautiful woman, bound naked on ones bed.

"Are you going to look at the gift I have given you?" V asked, slightly out of breath.

With a light and fuzzy head Evey lowered her gaze from the ceiling to look at her hip. She was in obvious pain; it drove through her in sharp pangs. As did the remnants of the explosive orgasm that had just ripped through her body.

But as her sight fell upon her new mark, she couldn't help but smile. _Yes, there was something deadly about having power over another_, she though silently as she glanced slyly at V with a twinkle in her eye. She allowed her eyes to drift back to her charred skin. They were simply staring at the brand the murderer, the terrorist; her lover had just given her. She looked with pride and pleasure at the mark that now lay upon her hip.

Next to the black ornate V were two more letters. The opulent feminine letter that had previously had the monopoly on her skin; was now joined by two letters that were the complete opposite. Although smaller, they were crude; thick and masculine.

Although the skin was raw and painfully disturbed, she could just make out the black brand.

_VEV_ she beamed.


	12. Chapter 12

_**(Just a big thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, I love reading your thoughts and glad you njoy what I write. If you read please spare a moment to review and let me know what you think!)**_

_Chapter 12_

The brand V had given Evey was decidedly taking its time to heal.

It had been three days since she had felt the excruciating kiss of white hot metal upon her fragile skin, and still it hurt incredibly. The wound looked as fresh now as it did the moment the brand was removed. The area around the sight of the mark was an angry red, inflamed and exceptionally painful to touch. The wound itself was still slick, shiny and raw. Occasionally weeping, the charred black flesh was struggling to scab and protect itself.

V, however, was not too concerned. He knew all there was to know about burns, unfortunately from death defying first hand experience. He was more than aware that peoples' bodies all react differently to injury; some heal quickly, while others need time. Evey obviously was the latter of the two. True the wound was taking its time to heal, but it was not a serious burn. The top layers of tissue had been damaged fairly deep, but it was a good sign there was no blistering. He had taken the necessary precautions to ensure other secondary scarring was minimal, but the pain unfortunately could not be prevented.

--------------------

Evey winched in great pain as V gently dabbed the throbbing wound with some good old fashioned Savlon. She gritted her teeth as the white ointment began to sink into the wound and sting sharply. Careful not to drag the cotton pad over the wound, he patted it lightly with latex fingers. For small, precise jobs such as this, he found the usual leather confines over his hands cumbersome and an overall hindrance; so he opted for a sensible pair of latex gloves that would stave off infection that could be transferred from him to her.

"Alright Evey, I am going to try something a little different today." He exclaimed, setting the used cotton pad into the dish besides him.

"Like what?" Evey replied tentatively.

"One of these." V handed the girl a small squishy pad. She fingered it carefully, inspecting the item and assessing it with caution.

"What is it?" She asked curiously.

"It's a burn shield Evey. It's a sterile gel dressing that is designed to protect and cool the burn. It also aids skin recovery, so it may help to jolly your body along into fixing itself." He answered cheerfully, taking the dressing back and beginning to unpack it.

Evey smiled as she watched V apply the dressing to her raw wound. Meticulously, he smoothed the sticky edges down firmly to her skin. She watched as he pedantically mythered one stubborn corner that refused to bond with her body. Taking a tiny pair of scissors, he snipped it away and turned his head to look at Evey.

"Done. Now this should help to heal the burn nicely. It says to leave it on for at least three days so that is what we shall do." He announced, replacing his leather gloves and beginning to tidy away the remnants of his make shift surgery. Evey ran a careful finger over the dressing. She could feel the pad cooling the wound, but it still hurt terribly; the pain made her feel sick. She was about to ask for some painkillers, but as if he had read her mind, V turned to her with a tall glass of water and two small blue tablets in his open hand.

"Take these; they will help abate the pain, at least while you sleep."

Gratefully, Evey swallowed the pills, coughing as they caught in her throat until she took a large swig of water. She was quite a while, sitting very still while V scurried about the kitchen replacing scissors, throwing away rubbish and such. An unexpected sudden urge roused her from her thoughts.

"V. Can I ask you a question?"

He spun round to face her directly, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Of course. I shall endeavour to answer all your questions my dearest Eve."

Evey paused. She wasn't sure how she should word her question, so she thought it best to simply say it as it came into her head.

"How did you cope when you got burned? I mean I have one little burn on my hip and it isn't even serious and I'm in agony. But you…you were burnt all over really badly. How did you survive such an intense level of pain? How did you not die?" Her face furrowed into a serious expression, her eyes laced with curiosity and concern in equal measures.

V sighed lightly, considering how best to answer the difficult question posed.

How could he explain the agonising pain he endured in the inferno of cell number five; he would never forget it as long as he breathed. It was a vivid now as the day he was dealt that terrible hand. He remembered feeling his face catch fire, the scorching flames consuming his hair, and watching the skin peel from his arms and chest as the fire tore across his torso. He could recollect the smell of his own burning flesh as it slid from his legs to his engulfed feet, and tearing at his own melting body with charred fingernails, trying to rid himself of the red tongues of fire destroying him. How could she even begin to comprehend the level of suffering, the degree of agony he had been plunged into? How could he explain he was a living testament to the full extent of the damage Larkhill had caused?

He never forgot the pain he suffered during his healing process either, he was grateful it no longer plagued him. He no longer woke, screaming in agony in the dead of night, the burns preventing him from eating or swallowing for days. He had crawled on his hands and knees, screaming in total agony. How many days he had lain on the floor, his exposed muscles spasming, his nerves ignited even by air and his internal organs failing to respond to his totally destroyed body? He remembered having to dress his own numerous wounds and having to survive without the aid of any painkillers.

V thought how the physical pain had finally abated; he was consumed by a totally new type of pain. The sort of pain he felt when he looked in the mirror and the only things he could recognise of his face were his sapphire eyes. The type of pain he felt when he looked at his naked body and saw not smooth creamy skin, but a map of charred black and red with braille like lines and bumps. The type of pain he felt when he realised no one would ever be able to look at him again without recoiling in horror. Yes the physical pain subsided and left his body scarred; but the mental pain took a lot longer and left scars of its own.

The main question was indeed how _did_ he not die? He had searched the faces of the Gods for an answer. Travelled deep into his own mind for an explanation. He had battled endlessly seeking light at the end of this never-ending tunnel, but he was found wanting. If truth been know, V did not know why or how he survived, he just did. There was a time in is life when he prayed for death; welcomed Charon with out stretched arms and begged to be standing in front of heavens pearly gates. Death did not claim him; it left him behind with his memories. It had taken all his inner strength to get to where he was today, a place where he no longer daily recollected his experience. A place where he no longer tormented himself with replaying the scenario over and over in his mind. He had accepted what had happened to him, but it had taken extreme amounts of time. He had managed to push the dreadful experience into the dark recesses of his brain, where it was seldom explored.

V shook his head slightly, stopping himself from slipping down the long dark road of pity, anger and self-loathing. He considered his answer very carefully before replying. It seemed like an eternity before he finally offered his explanation.

"I survived Evey, what more can I say? To divulge any more would be to open the floodgates to a side of me you do not want to be privy to, so I shall simply say I survived." V answered methodically.

Evey nodded sadly. She knew V well enough to know when he didn't want to talk about something; it would be futile to press him further. She respected his privacy, even if it did upset her to think he didn't trust her enough to explain what had happened to him.

"It is not I do not trust you Evey, it is just there are some horrors in this world too terrible to be divulged in conversation. Some evils are truly best left undisturbed. Some sights are too horrific to be viewed by such beautiful eyes as yours." V spoke with a sadness in his voice Evey had never heard before. It broke her heart.

"I hope you're not referring to yourself?" She replied.

"What the fire did to me was incomprehensible. Beneath this mask is not my face, it is just another mask replacing what was once a face."

Evey shook her head; she couldn't believe she was hearing such words. She slid from the table the burn on her hip reminding her painfully of its presence.

"You are a foolish man V. For all your intelligence, you shall never understand the nature of love. I love and desire you for who you are, not what you look like. When I see your face I shall shower every inch of it with tender kisses and loving strokes and spend all my days telling you just how handsome you really are."

"I doubt very much you would, considering the view you would see," replied V.

Evey exhaled slowly.

"You're beautiful, you just don't realise it yet. I just wish you trusted me enough so I could tell it to your real face."

She smiled with a sorrow that was tearing her apart. What could she do to convince the man before her she was head over heels, deliriously in love with him? There was no way she would not find him attractive. Her father had always taught her if you fall in love with persons' soul, then they would always be beautiful no matter what they look like, and that was true now. Evey had fallen in love with V's very soul, he already was handsome to her.

Suddenly Evey felt the effects of the painkillers kicking in, especially one pesky effect, drowsiness. Tiredness washed over her in droves, making her body weak. Her eyes felt heavy and she let out a silent yawn. As much as she wanted to continue this conversation, she doubted she would be awake much longer.

"I think someone needs some sleep." V said, glad something was finally breaking the uncomfortable conversation.

"Yes, I think I'm going to go to bed, rest will probably do me some good." Evey replied through the end of her yawn. V nodded as Evey placed a kiss upon his cold porcelain cheek; it made him smile.

"Goodnight V, sweet dreams." She purred as she slowly padded toward her bedroom. V tilted his head quizzically as he watched her reach the door, then he called out to her.

"Evey." He paused a moment in contemplation. "Might you be more comfortable in my room again tonight?"

Evey turned to him and smiled widely with tired eyes. It cheered deeply her to know V wanted her next to him as he slept. She liked sleeping in his room, his bed; it felt natural and she felt safe. She changed direction and headed toward V's room, where she disappeared into the darkness of his quarters.

By the time V had finished cleaning up and finally retired into his room, Evey was already asleep; curled up in the black duvet like a little angel. This was becoming a regular occurrence over the past three days for him; Evey went to sleep in his bed, and when he was quite sure she was asleep he would slip in next to her. And in the morning he was always awake before she woke up. An unorthodox arrangement, but at least it meant he could sleep next to his seraph. As he stalked silently around the darkened room, he couldn't help but think how beautiful she really was; stunning, a picture of radiance here in his bed. As he removed his boots and gently slid into bed next to her, he brushed her cheek with leathery fingers.

"Good night my Goddess." He whispered as he laid his head upon his pillow. Evey let out a subconscious little sigh as she slept, but V was sure she had just heard him.

--------------------

Evey wasn't sure what time it was when she awoke, but she guessed it was still very early. She turned to the LED clock next to the bed as it flashed the time at her.

**3:03AM **it beamed in little green lights

The effects of the painkillers had finally worn off and her hip was hurting now like never before. V had accidentally brushed her hip with a stray gloved hand while he slept. She felt a bolt of searing pain shoot to her head making her feel instantly sick. It throbbed and pulsated beneath the gel dressing with such intensity she was certain she would begin to cry at any moment. She couldn't understand why her body was not responding faster, why it just refused to begin the healing process. Whatever the reason it was infuriating and extremely painful. The raw disturbed wound kicked at her agonisingly, its sharp pangs sending shivers of pain through her body like tiny lightening bolts. Evey was sweating as a direct result of her suffering. She threw the bed covers back and welcomed the rush of cold gallery air that swept over her blisteringly hot body.

She climbed out of bed to go in search of more painkillers, trying to ignore her hip. She turned and looked at V as he stirred but remained asleep. _Fully clothed…mask as well,_ she noted. Silently she slipped out of the door and into the main part of the Shadow Gallery, closing the bedroom door behind her.

It was colder out there much cooler than the bedroom. It was quite creepy too, the darkness of night shrouding the vast space she now called home. She didn't know why she felt nervous, this was the safest place in London, and no one would ever get in down here. She guessed her fear must be natural; she never liked the dark as a little girl. She ran an apprehensive hand along the stone wall, feeling for the light switches. Her grasping fingers finally found what they were seeking. _Third switch from the right,_ she whispered to herself, remembering the switch for the kitchen light. She jammed a finger into the switch and instantly the kitchen lit up.

-------------------

After about fifteen minutes of searching, Evey was laid on the couch in the television room. She had gulped down two more painkillers and decided to wait till they kicked in and did what they do best. She didn't want to go back into V's room; she was scared of waking him as he always seemed to sleep light. Plus if he inadvertently moved or shifted and knocked her hip, she really would howl. The couch wasn't the most comfortable thing she had slept on, but it was better than being painfully knocked about in a bed.

"Abandoning me again are you?" A voice came from the dark.

Evey sat up swiftly, causing her to inhale sharply as the brand reminded her to be more careful. She squinted in the low light looking for V; he stepped into view after a few moments languishing in the dark.

"No not at all. I couldn't sleep, my hip woke me up. I came out and took some more painkillers, I just didn't want to wake you, and so I thought it best if I slept here tonight." She explained.

"It would be best if you returned with me to _our _bed." He replied.

"_Our bed?_ Really? Do you mean that V? _Ours_." Evey beamed.

He nodded in confirmation even though it was obviously hard for him to discuss such matters.

'Yes, Evey.' He breathed, barely audible.

"Yes, of course I will!" Evey smiled rising from the couch to hug him. "But I can't understand why you are still full dressed. You must be really uncomfortable sleeping in all that garb! If you get undressed and take off the mask I will come to bed with you happily."

"I must admit, it is not as comfortable as I normally enjoy, but while you sleep beside me I shall continue to wear the mask and be fully clothed."

Evey frowned, her brow furrowed and her smile dropped. She stood perfectly still, her body growing taut, "Oh, I see."

V tilted his head reading, her altered tone and her changing body language. "Evey, dearest, do please understand. I do not wish you to view me unclothed and void of mask, I do not feel secure with such an idea just yet. I explained this earlier."

Evey shook her head in disbelief. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, from his own lips. She felt like laughing out loud.

"So let me get this straight. You want us to sleep together, in _our_ bed, in _our room_. Yet you want to sleep fully concealed?" She questioned V, looking directly into the black voids in the mask that he called eyes.

V nodded in agreement. "Yes that is correct Evey. Unless you would rather sleep with this?" From his pocket he produced a long strip of black silky cloth. He held it in front of him, waiting for the approval of his lady love.

Evey finally laughed incredulously and threw her hands in the air, much to the disdain of V; this was not the reaction he had expected.

"You seriously expect me to go to bed blindfolded? Just because you can't bear for me to look at you? That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard! I just do not believe this!"

"Evey plea…" She cut him off mid sentence.

"No V, seriously. I want to know why you want me in your bed. Why do you want me to sleep with you? Easy access?" She cried with a sarcastic chuckle.

He looked at her, confusion reading through the mask. "Easy access?" He was baffled.

"Yeah, easy access, as in you only want me in your bed to fuck me!" Evey felt her blood to begin to boil.

"Evey, did you hear nothing of what I said earlier on? Did you not hear me tell you how attractive you are to me? How it breaks my heart to look at you? That I think you are the most exquisite creature on this earth and shall always remain so? I am just not comfortable with being seen yet." He said, trying to explain himself.

Evey began to raise her voice, her anger rising in turn.

"I heard you!" she snapped, "But I want to see the man I love. I want to look at his body and smile in the knowledge that this is the man I have chosen to be with; that this is the man whose brand I wear."

"You will not smile at a body such as mine." V lamented in self pity as he lowered his head.

"That is for me to decide V…not you."

He looked at her, his shoulders slumping sadly. "I appreciate what you tell me, but one delightful comment cannot erase a lifetime of doubt from my mind. I am sorry." V tried to offer but with no success.

"No V, it is I who am sorry. Sorry you obviously do not trust me enough or hold me in a high enough regard to reveal your face and body to me; your lover, your partner." Tears beginning to well in her eyes as her emotions finally caught up with her.

"It is not I do not trust you Eve……" He was cut short as an exasperated Evey interjected.

"No V, it is more than obvious you do not trust me enough. I am not wearing a blindfold V, and neither will I sleep in a bed with you fully clothed. You want me to touch you and have sex with you, just as long as I don't see you! When I go to bed with a partner then I want to be able to gaze upon the man I am sleeping next to, I do not want to have to wear a fucking blindfold to kiss him goodnight." Evey replied angrily, suddenly forgetting the searing pain in her hip.

"As long as you impose these restrictions upon our sleeping arrangements, then I am sorry but there will be no _our_ bed V." Evey finalized.

She moved past V in a hurry, a tear falling down her perfectly rounded cheek. Her less than happy mood more than apparent to him. He began to realize the ramifications of what he had just asked her and in a way wished he had broached the subject differently.

"Evey…wait!" V cried, desperate to salvage something from this self created debacle.

Evey turned to face him once more, tears coursing down her little face as she stood deathly still. V gazed at her with distressed eyes, drinking in her sorrow. His heart was breaking, he was dying inside. His angel, his little Evey reduced to a mass of watery tears and angry words.

"No, if you want to blindfold someone, or put a bag over their head, do it to yourself. If you ask me you don't want a lover, you want a whore." Evey spat indignantly, with venom in her burning eyes.

She stormed toward her bedroom door and this time she disappeared into her own quarters and not his. V sighed with frustration and disappointment as the heavy door slammed shut behind her.


	13. Chapter 13

_**(Please read & review!)**_

_Chapter 13_

_4:17am_

Foolishly, V had attempted to go back to sleep after the row he had with Evey. It was a futile exercise that resulted in him simply lying uncomfortably in his bed; totally unable to close his eyes and rendering him utterly incapable of resting.

He had turned onto his right side, his left side, his stomach, his back. He had tried with a pillow, without a pillow, with a duvet, on top of the sheets. Everything and every way he could imagine, but nothing lent him any reprieve from his apparent insomnia. He even tried grabbing at Eveys pillow in a vain attempt to recreate her softness and gentle fragrance. It did not work; in a rage the replacement Evey ended up unceremoniously on the floor.

_Sleep is the soothing bath of a hard days labour_, he thought silently; wishing he were permitted to enjoy the balmy waters of deep slumber.

His mood had turned foul. Everything irritated him. The closeness of the air in the bedroom. The low green light emitted from the digital clock. The dripping of the right hand tap in the kitchen. The slightest noise escaping from the shifting gallery. He wanted to take his daggers and drive them into the annoying objects that dared and had the audacity to be in his presence.

He thrashed about angrily as the sheets engulfed him in a tangle. He snorted loudly as he tossed the offending sheets to the end of the bed and beyond. He was utterly incensed that instead of basking in the radiance of his beautiful sleeping angel, he was playing a game of hide and seek with the elusive sandman.

The more he tried to sleep, the angrier he became as the rest he longed for evaded him. He was infuriated with himself and his own bloody minded stupidity. He was furious at his own actions; that his words had caused so much pain to the single person he had vowed never to hurt. His rage burned inside him with such intensity he thought he might self-combust and burn once again. He was utterly vexed with the manor in which he had approached what he now realised was a very delicate subject.

_Why did I allow myself to make such a mistake?_ He wondered with much annoyance. Such was the price of loving a seraph he deduced. Love, passion and obsession replace precision, reason and all ability to think straight, when one heart joins with another.

After what seemed an eternity, V sat on the side of his bed, deep in contemplation. He held his weary head in his hands and let slip a slight sigh of agitation as he glared at the grinning mask on the floor before him. It was a relief to be able to feel cool air wash over his naked face. If only he could be this confident in front of Evey. If only he trusted her enough to be able to unmask himself when it truly mattered.

His mind a blur with a million different words, movements, touches, actions, wishes and desires. His head ached as he tried desperately to think of a way in which he could rectify his mistake, a way he could undo this complete quandary he had dug himself into.

He wanted to apologise profusely for his mistake. Wanted to take Eveys hands in his own and shower them with a thousand apologetic kisses. He longed to look into her eyes and have from his own lips spew forth words of sincere regret and sorrow for his ridiculous actions. He wished to take her in a devoted embrace and soothe her worries and fears. To stroke her head and comfort her in her misery of what must feel like total rejection.

He could not bear the thought he had upset his precious little Evey, that he had caused tears to fall from her beautiful eyes. Could not comprehend he was the cause of her sorrow and deep seated anguish. He was disgusted with himself, that through his words he had placed her into so much distress and woe. It tore him apart; it was torturing him inside.

He could stand it no longer; the ignominy of it all was tearing him apart slowly. He had to do something to offer an olive branch to his beloved. He could not bear to think of her in pain and upset, he had to see her. Reluctantly, he replaced the mask over his face, concealing what he should really he knew should be revealed.

He teased open his bedroom door, a rush of cold air from the dark gallery greeted him. He allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness he felt so comfortable and at home in. After a few moments of silently surveying the vast gallery, he took quick, light steps towards Eveys bedroom, the paddle of his slippers following quietly behind him.

He reached the heavy wooden door that shielded his angel from his view. Raising his gloved hand, it wavered above the door, ready to knock loudly, ready to proclaim his arrival. But he hesitated. Like some unseen force held his hand fast in mid-air. His fist hovered centimeters away from making contact with the door. He wanted to knock, wanted to enter, wanted to explain his actions; but he could not. The words would not form, his mind refused to cooperate with his vocal cords; he was speechless.

Beneath the smiling mask he blinked several times. He felt a lump rising in his hot throat, swallowing hard to push it back down again. He lowered his head and then in turn his fist, till it dropped by his side. His forehead as becoming clammy and he felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple. He took a hushed step backwards, distancing himself from his goal. With a slight shake of his head, he turned on his heel and dashed quickly back into the darkness of the gallery, back where he felt safe.

He paced. V never paced, but he was doing so now. He did this because as much as he hated to admit it, he was wrong. He was upset and he knew he was guilty, that this whole debacle had been brought on by himself and that he could blame no other.

Back and forth over the same stone flags for what seemed forever. His brain refusing to drift from the many thoughts that plagued it. He had attempted to return to Eveys bedroom door, he was now at his fifth unsuccessful try. Each time he strode gallantly toward his prize and each time he had faltered, been found wanting and had fled back into the black void of the night time gallery.

A myriad of thoughts prayed upon his mind. First and foremost, the sickening thought that he would one day have to reveal himself to Evey; a thought that sent a true shiver down his spine. He had never revealed himself since Larkhill, not to anyone. Still on the occasion, in the wrong light, he would shudder at what he saw when passing a mirror with no mask or devoid of clothes. If he was so repulsed, surely Evey would be as well? But deep down he knew it was foolish of him to think he could remain clothed forever, not too mention just how uncomfortable he would be. He could not keep his face and body concealed forever, as much as he may wish he could, he knew it was an impossibility. He also knew that this would arise at some point in the relationship; sooner or later the subject would be broached. Unfortunately it was just sooner rather than later.

But could Evey handle what she would see? Would she be true to her word and shower him with a thousand sweet kisses of delicious admiration? Or would she recoil in horror at the repulsive monster that had scarred her view for all eternity?

_She has seen my hands, and she did show nothing but concern…no look of horror or disgust…maybe she could cope with my looks?_ He muttered inaudibly.

With delirious memories, he thought back to when they made red hot love on the gallery floor. He remembered her little hands tearing at his shirt and brushing across the rough skin of his chest. He recalled her delicate mouth around various parts of his body, her lithe tongue discovering his strange skin. He smiled deeply as he thought about her rubbing her whole body against his own, grinding and moving over his map of charred skin. And he remembered how there were no moans of repugnance when she touched him, only moans of sheer ecstasy as she dug her nails into his back when he trust harder.

_She felt me, all of me…and liked it,_ he analysed silently behind his mask with a small but growing smile.

_4:17am _

Evey sat dejectedly on the end of her soft bed; she had not even attempted to try and sleep, she knew it would be useless to even consider this. She wiped the occasional tear from her face with a ragged old tissue, screwed tightly in the palm of her sweaty hand. Her eyes were puffy and red; sore from the many salty tears they had produced. And to make matters worse her hip was excruciatingly painful, the tablets she had taken failing to kick in. Every position was uncomfortable, so she had given up trying to relax.

Her head was pounding, truly aching; she felt sick to her stomach. It felt like she was being struck with a hammer to the back of the head. She let out a slight sniffle as she felt her nose begin to run; the sniffle was followed by a dainty sneeze. She cursed under her breath, determined not to fall victim to any more suffering or unpleasantness. She had enough to be dealing with, let alone the trappings of a pesky cold.

She didn't know where to begin thinking, there was just too much information whizzing about in her brain. She was still struggling to accept the fact that her lover, the man she whom she adored, the man whom she made wild, passionate love to was asking her to sleep besides him blind folded. Her mind failing to grasp such a concept, such a notion. Failing to comprehend that he had allowed those hideous words to spring forth from his mouth. The words he spoke flashed before her, as if etched into her memory.

-------------------

"…_I shall continue to wear the mask and be fully clothed."_

_--------------------- _

"_I am just not comfortable with being seen by you…"_

_--------------------- _

"_It is not I do not trust you Eve……"_

_---------------------_

The words resounded in her mind; clear as crystal, unforgettable and with all the force of a kick to the face. While her brain tried in vain to understand these insidious sentences, it also was fighting a losing battle with imagining that V had any trust in her what so ever. How could he after all he had said? After all her had asked her? She wanted to tear at her skull and rip out what she had heard, it disgusted her so.

She was furious, she knew that much at least; filled with a rage so strong it frightened even her. Her mind delirious with anger as she thought of the audacity of his brand upon her skin. She had given herself to him, every part of her was his; body, mind, soul and sanity belonged to him now. He had scarred her, marked her skin for an age with his name. She ached and writhed in pain; she wanted to scream out to the heavens in raw sheer agony. She was suffering this for him, throwing herself into the hands of anguish and utter torment, and this is how he treated her?

He allowed her to touch him, to taste him, to swallow him, to feel him, but not to see him? Blindfolded in darkness, he fucked her senseless, all the while greedily drinking in her young totally exposed body, that was bended to his will. Yet she was not permitted to see even an inch of him? He had examined her body in her nakedness, running his hands over every part of her, memorising each line, every contour of her skin. He had commented upon moles, freckles, scars; he knew her body better than she did! But she didn't even know what he looked like? Evey was sure there was injustice in there somewhere and her rage quickened. She closed her eyes, desperate to soothe herself.

Then suddenly, something snapped inside her, her anger immediately calming, subsiding. She thought about the man. Her thoughts cast vicariously over V. Not the beautiful idea, or the indestructible terrorist or even the crazed vigilante. Just the man…V.

She thought about what he had told her many months ago, before her incarceration. How he had let slip a little of his pain, an ounce of his life as a deformity. With a saddened heart she took the time to consider how it must feel for him to have the entire body of a horrific burns victim; to be a walking scar and a constant reminder of your own suffering. She felt small and ugly as she contemplated just how selfish she was in not taking into consideration how V must feel. It cannot be easy for him to just simply reveal himself after so many years spent self loathing and feeling rejected.

She remembered feeling him when they made love on the gallery floor, running her hands across his chest. The skin rough and hard, gnarled and dry. She recalled her tongue roaming over his skin, the lack of smoothness more than apparent. Little body hair and skin that was unlike any others. Although she had never seen his entire body, she remembered his hands and the first time she saw them. The shock of seeing scorched, red angry skin. Although she was not frightened, she was shocked to see such a sight.

Without warning, a terrible thought darted into her mind.

_What if I become freaked out by what I see? _She considered in horror_. I love him, but what if? What if he removes his mask and he has no eyelids? What if he takes off his shirt and his entire body is hideously pock marked and scaly?_

Evey knew if V detected even the tiniest hint of doubt, the slightest whiff of repugnance at that crucial time, then that one single moment would destroy him…destroy them forever.

But deep down Evey knew she had already decided, and such thoughts were exactly that…just thoughts. Of no consequence or importance, of no worth or damage. She had accepted V, she loved him; loved the man with an intensity that would go unrivalled thoughout the ages. She had accepted him in her mind, for better or worse. She knew no matter how he looked she could never fall out of love with V. She had grown to love the man, a man she could not now live without. His looks were of no concern; he was beautiful to her and for an eternity would remain so.

She loved him. She loved him with every beat of her heart. She loved him with every breath in her body

With rejuvenated thoughts, Evey sprung from the bed and bounced towards the bedroom door, suddenly forgetting her hip and impending cold. Instead of festering in her self pity and angry thoughts, she sought to talk with V, to listen to him and have him listen to her. She wanted to reassure him and kiss him and tell him she loved him; she wanted him to do the same to her.

With desperate hands she opened the bedroom door, seeking out her lover, the man she wished to apologise to for being such a brat. As the door hit the inner bedroom wall, Evey gasped in momentary shock; a sharp bolt of heat tearing through her body.

The wide open door revealed a very shocked V; standing with his arm raised, fist clenched ready to knock and wearing slippers. Evey was stunned V was at her door. V was equally surprised she had caught him at her door. Evey could feel the heat of embarrassment radiating through the calm mask; she imagined his cheeks blushing furiously. An uneasy silence descended upon the pair as they simply stared at each other in shock.

"Would you like some breakfast?" Spluttered V.


	14. Chapter 14

**_(Oh by the way: very mature content coming up…you have been warned! Please review if you read!)_**

_Chapter 14_

Evey stared aimlessly into her mug of hot tea as she sat at the kitchen table; her eyes transfixed on the trails of steam that rose from the boiling liquid like tendrils into the air. She kept her icy fingers wrapped tightly around the temperate mug; grasping it graciously, glad of the warmth it was sending into her body via her frozen hands.

She hated the gallery always being so cold, always being so bloody freezing. The natural stone walls and flooring of the chilled underground palace offered neither warmth nor the comfort of heat. The chilly lifeless air clung to her like a wet robe draped over her shoulders, the biting temperature nipping at her ankles as it swirled about the floor. The frostiness of the gallery stalked about like a depressing morbid presence, daining to make everyone near it feel glacial. Because of the apparent lack of any form of central heating, something as small and insignificant as a cup of hot tea made all the difference to ones body temperature. Evey had come to learn this and as a result made sure she was layered up with jogging pants and jumpers before venturing out of her room; but never the less, still she hated the blasted cold. She was sure that this frigid air was doing nothing but accelerate the cold that was brewing within her. She let slip a slight sniffle.

"Here we are mademoiselle, one bowl of piping hot porridge." V proclaimed suddenly; with leathery fingers he set the blue crockery down in front of the slightly pouting girl.

"Made using the finest organic Scottish oats, full fat milk and heaps of refined sugar…just the way you like it. That should also help to stave off that cold I detect you are getting." He set a large silver spoon next to the dish, along with a tissue for her nose.

"Not eating?" She said with a sneer, releasing her grasp on the mug.

V shook his head, his mask never dropping its delightfully playful smile. "Can't eat, not hungry my dear." He replied with a jovial voice, testing out a slight smile beneath his façade.

Evey curled her lip into a snarl. "Won't eat more like, that'd mean you'd have to take that bloody mask off."

She spat, her words dripping with venomous disdain. As soon as they left her however, she closed her eyes tight for a just a moment, silently regretting ever saying them. _You stupid vindictive little girl_, she screamed within, her cheeks feeling flushed. But with unspoken remorse, she picked up the spoon and dug it into the thick porridge; filling her mouth with the hot and creamy food allowing it to warm her deep inside.

Eveys words stung V, like sharp little stabs at his heart. The words like tiny imps gnawing at him viciously. The growing smile on his real face died and his face lowered into a look of utter despondency. He did not need reminding of his stupidity of the previous day, yet he knew this was Eveys right as a scorned woman. Tentatively he seated himself opposite her, bringing his leather hands to rest folded upon the table before him_. If only they were ungloved, would it prove my love_? He mused in pious contemplation as his eyes caught sight of his hands. From the waist up, he looked composed and calm, cool and collected. But beneath the table, away from Eveys eyes, he rubbed the back of his leg furiously with a twitching nervous foot.

The atmosphere at the table matched the temperature of the gallery, chilly and frigid. The air was filled with an uncomfortable silence, awkward chance glances were exchanged over the no mans land in the middle of the table.

The pair sat for a considerable amount of time in complete silence, save the occasional clatter of metal upon china emitted from Evey eating. Neither of the two knowing just how to start conversation and whether they should or not, neither wishing to begin the inevitable. Evey focused her attention upon the food before her, eating deliberately slow in an attempt to avoid engaging with masked man sat opposite her. But in her mind were a thousand things she wished to say and a thousand things that she knew ought to be said. V sat very still, making minimal movement and sound, appearing extremely tranquil. But inside, he was silently racking his brain; writhing in confusion, trying desperately to think of something to say to the shunned girl before him.

Twenty more minutes passed in strained silence and Evey eventually finished her porridge; unable to draw out the process of consuming it any longer. She took so long that the food had actually gone tepid and was like a disgusting slime in her mouth. V took the bowl from her with a slight nod and placed it into the sink full of warm water and soapy bubbles. A predicament suddenly arose. To wash up the dirty dish he needed to remove his gloves; but with Evey sat less than five feet away and in clear view of the sink, doing so would reveal himself, something he wished not to do at this time. He thought it most inappropriate even to reveal his hands, in view of the situation they currently found themselves in. After quickly weighing up his options, he left the bowl immersed in the suds, deciding to leave it till Evey was no longer around.

The difficult silence continued; the tension in the room like a crushing weight upon them both. It was almost unbearable. Evey had considered leaving the kitchen to be alone in the sanctuary of her bedroom, but she was not the only one in the wrong so decided upon staying firmly put. V had contemplated on releasing his pent up frustration upon Erik by way of his foil, but thought it ungentlemanly of him to abandon his ladylove in light of the situation.

_I hate this, I have to say something to him,_ Evey brooded thoughtfully as she itched the back of her neck apprehensively.

_I_ _simply have to explain my actions to her, this is quite awful,_ V contemplated silently.

"V I have som…" Evey was cut short as she shot to her feet.

"Evey I want to apol…" V was interrupted as he spun round to face Evey fully. The pair smiled as their sentences were cut short by the other. Evey licked her lips subconsciously; V lowered his head just an inch.

"I'm sorry V, please carry on." Evey said deftly.

"No I insist, ladies first." Answered V in response, ever the gentleman. Evey sighed deeply and raised her head to look the man she loved in the eyes.

"About last night, I want to apologise for the things I said. I was way out of line and should never have said what I did. I've realised this situation from your point of view too, and just how difficult it must be for you to show yourself to me." She explained with an overly apologetic air and a sympathetic sparkle in her eye.

"No my dear Evey, it is I who must apologise. I realise now that I blundered into a very delicate topic with a disengaged brain and with no regard for your feelings. I am _truly sorry_ if I made you feel in any way untrusted, unloved or used, for this is not my intention." V took a step forward and brushed his the back of his hand against Eveys soft face. "You mean more to me than words will ever express. Shakespeare could write for a thousand years and not reveal more than an inch of what I feel for you. You are everything to me Miss Hammond and it drives a stake through my heart to imagine for a second that I might have upset you."

Evey stepped forward to meet V. She placed a tiny hand upon his cold porcelain face and smiled deeply at him with inquisitive and mischievous eyes. She liked their tender moments; they were few, but she enjoyed them.

"No V, I was selfish…an utter brat. I should have been more understanding and recognised that asking you to show yourself to me was far too much and very greedy of me. You will reveal yourself in your own time, when you are ready. I will wait, however long it takes…I will wait for you and it shall be on your terms." She raised up onto her tiptoes and placed a heart felt kiss upon the lips of V's mask. She lowered herself and seductively shrugged her shoulders. "And until you're ready to be fully naked around me, I shall continue to enjoy our little sinful trysts. Besides, there's something quite seductive about being _fucked_ by someone fully dressed."

V was so fascinated and taken back by that dirty little word coming from such wholly lips that he had not fully noticed Evey slipping her hand into his already unbuttoned trousers. Her cold little fingers caused him to inhale sharply as they sought his oversized manhood. Her other hand still rested upon his masked face, pulling him closer to her. She kissed him softly on the dead lips of the mask; her kisses becoming more fervent and passionate with her every movement. V suddenly pulled his head back away from her armorous advances.

"Evey what about the blin…" He interjected in vain. Evey shook her head in the most seductive manor.

"No. No blindfold for now and you leave the mask on. We'll talk terms later…" Her kissing continued, much to the delight of V. He found it exceedingly annoying and highly frustrating that he were not permitted to return her kisses with warm ones from his own hungry mouth_. Maybe this is how Evey feels when I am fully clothed?_ He considered for a moment before the little she devil pulled him deeply towards her, her fingers intertwined with his false hair. She was devouring him, without shame or abash, she was devouring him.

Her other busy little hand had succeeded in its task. Within minutes the smooth flaccid member it had been carelessly caressing was bulging and straining against its material confines. Hard and throbbing, it was dying to be united with its favourite place, dying for that sweet sticky release. Evey momentarily stopped kissing V; she quickly dropped her jogging pants unceremoniously to the floor and kicked them to one side. She stepped backwards slowly up until she felt the table against her; fire glinting in her eyes, desire raging within her. With a light hop she sat upon the table, legs splayed outwards, hands resting on the table behind her.

V simply stared at the stunning temptress before him, not quite believing his luck. _Last night she hates me, this morning she wants me?_ He pondered quizzically. But he cared not; she looked so damn inviting, so bloody tempting. He cast his eyes below her waist and between her legs; her fleshy quim, twitching, just visible though the inadequate material of her underwear. Beneath the mask he bit his lip hard as he watched her rapidly remove her jumper in one fluid motion, revealing her pert little breasts and sweetly erect nipples. She sat almost fully naked save her knickers, in front of him now, on his kitchen table. She was so close he could touch her, smell her, could feel her. His prominent erection clearly aching for its goal, so much so it hurt him as it pressed against his trousers

Evey batted her dark lucious lashes and bit her lip so utterly seductively. "Take me." She whispered as she trailed a wet finger across her bottom lip.

V did not need to be asked twice, he was desperate for his prize. With lightening speed he was between Eveys legs, fumbling with his trousers in a passion fuelled frenzy. He eventually freed himself and desperately attempted to push himself into her, but his entrance was marred by the material guarding it. With a gloved and angry hand he ripped Eveys knickers from her body, feeling and hearing the delicate material give and tear. He wrapped his arms tightly around her firm backside and pulled her towards him. With a mighty thrust he drove himself deep into her, causing Evey to cry out in utter ecstasy as he filled her. V let slip a deep and primal grunt as he became firmly ensconced inside his lover. Violently he rocked his hips against her, banging veraciously against the table and causing it to shake.

Evey lay down on the table, arching and curving her back as she allowed herself to be taken in such a brutal manor. V gazed at in awe. She truly was perfect, a goddess among women, his Amazonian. He leaned forward slightly, raising his right hand to Eveys throat where he gripped it firmly. Evey felt all the air escape her and she gasped loudly. His sign of dominance aroused her further, her desire reaching new heights. He slowly released his grasp and ran his roving hand down the middle of her body, savouring her breasts for but a moment, then allowing it to finally rest upon her beautifully flat stomach. His sight fell upon the still red and swollen VEV inscribed into her hip. He smiled at his possession and wondered for a second if it were hurting. Truthfully he did not care, all he wanted was his sweet release; concern would come later once he had had his way.

Evey felt her toes curl and her back arch higher as V drove himself viciously into her. Her entire body aching from the lightening bolt thrusts of her lover. From V's lips escaped an evident groan of pleasure, a moan of delicious enjoyment, a supplication of sheer delectation. Evey cried out with rapture as the addictive burning sensation rose within her loins. She thought she were dying; ascending to heaven on a silky cloud of gossamer pleasure. In a matter of seconds she screamed in absolute ecstasy as a white hot bomb of unimaginable enjoyment imploded inside her. She felt sure that all of London had heard her howl it was so loud and of such an extravagant pitch. Suddenly, her cry was almost immediately joined by that of V. He threw his head back as his lungs burst and he came deeply. White spots of blinding light danced in front of his eyes as he felt himself empty. _Such ecclesiastic pleasure, I am sure I am damned to the pits of hell for experiencing something so divin_e; V cogitated wildly in his sexual haze. Evey couldn't help but let out a laugh of pleasure and elation as she felt him withdraw sharply from her.

"_That was amazing."_ She whispered softly into the air.

"_My apologies that it was not longer!"_ V hushed between sharp inhales.

Panting and sweating, Evey forced herself to sit up, her whole frame aching as the remnants of her pure hedonistic enjoyment still lingered within her. She wrapped her arms around V's pumped neck and smiled. She kissed his cheek gently then buried her face into his shirt and inhaled sharply; desperate to catch some of the breath that had escaped her.

"I'm sorry V, truly sorry." She spluttered breathlessly.

"I am sorry Evey. It will never happen again, I swear." V replied, finding the air stifling and choking as he caressed Eveys head lovingly.

After a few moments of a much more comfortable silence, V broke the quiet with an unexpected question.

"Evey, would you like to go out with me today?" He asked sincerely.

Evey pulled her face from V's shoulder and looked at him with bleary eyes astounded that he had asked her such a question. She tilted her head ever so slightly, making her look irresistibly cute.

"Out? As in out _out_? Like out of the gallery?" V nodded in reply.

"But how? You cant wear that mask and I'll be recognised immediately!" Exclaimed Evey, still clinging firmly to V's neck.

"Ah my little coquette, that is where you are wrong. For you I have a stunning disguise. For myself, another mask…one more acceptable in societies eyes. I assure you, we shall go totally undetected by those who seek us."

A smile crept across Eveys face and she hugged V tightly. "I'd love to V! Where are we going?"

V grinned widely beneath the mask, releasing the sheer brilliance of his plan. This way he could sleep with Evey in _their_ bed without his day clothes on; making him much more comfortable and at the same time giving Evey more of what she longed for. V just knew Evey would appreciate the sentiment of his gesture.

"Two words my love…pyjama shopping."


	15. Chapter 15

_**For those who may have forgotten, this story is set after Eveys incarceration and before November 5th. Also, if you read, please spare a wee moment for a review.**_

_Chapter 15_

The streets were quiet as V and Evey made their way home after a long afternoon of shopping, heavily ladened with numerous bags. Many of the office dwellers and corporate drones who filled the streets at five o'clock were gone, just a few straggling after hours workers hurrying home with their briefcases in hand and looking weary. Most of the shops which were buzzing only a few hours before were now dark and slipping into their nightly slumber. The high rise offices were slowly shutting down and resting until another day arose.

It was a cold evening; the clement weather turning suddenly and taking a dramatic drop in temperature. Evey clung to V's muscular arm as they strolled along the deserted pavement, listening to the click of her heels upon the tarmac. Her white scarf was tied firmly around her neck keeping her warm; her jacket buttoned up as a defence against the biting cold. She watched as her exhaled breath turned to a shot of pearly steam then vanished. The very tip of her nose was bitter, she couldn't wait to get home and nuzzle herself into V, the human radiator. Surely this frigid weather was doing nothing to aid her advancing cold.

The arctic wind picked up and swirled about her in a frosty rush. The crispy autumn leaves on the pavement danced and capered around her ankles like little imps. Her long icy blonde hair fluttering behind her as the wind got beneath it. She liked having hair once more; the look of it, the feel of it, it looked amazing. She had never imagined herself as a blonde but it suited her more than she first thought; you would have never guessed it was a wig.

V's ingenious disguise had worked perfectly; she had been recognised by no one. For that matter neither of them had been recognised. Evey in her flowing golden wig, overly rouged lips and the false name Emily. V with his more acceptable 'day mask' as he called it, regular clothes and the fake name Vincent. He loathed the vulgarity of the clothing, he complained of the cheapness of the material and the feel of them upon his skin. A filthy mix of lycra, denim, nylon and cotton polluted his body, but after realising that moaning got him no where he abandoned his whining. They looked an odd couple she had to admit. Her with the beautiful hair and stunning make-up all dressed up like a living doll. Him with his shaggy beard and loosely tied ponytail, he looked more like a vagrant than a suitable partner. They had attracted a few strange looks and curious glances, however nothing of any concern.

But overall their day had been a great success. They had shopped for pyjamas and other delights, had lunch and drank tea in a fancy cafe and they had enjoyed each others company immensely. They had agreed that it was a relief to finally do something so normal and just to act as some many other couples do. To forget the worries of the impending November the fifth, to throw caution to the government rewards for their capture, and above all to disregard the row they had both had earlier. They had spent the day ensconced in each other, wrapped in their own hedonistic world where only they existed. Like two lovesick teenagers who simply could not get enough of each other. It had been absolute heaven.

"So do you like your new pyjamas Vincent? I can't wait to see you in them!" Smiled Evey, as she imagined V relaxing seductively in his new silk navy pyjamas.

V nodded. "I think they are wonderful and I shall model them for you in all their glory tonight." He felt much happier about the situation now; he had been assured of this when he realised that not all men's pyjamas are just boxer shorts as he had first envisaged. He was even more delighted knowing that his little Evey agreed to their sleeping arrangements. As far as he could see it was a win-win situation. Evey got to sleep next to him in their bed satisfied in the knowledge he was not fully dressed. While he was permitted a good night sleep devoid of the trapping of his cumbersome day wear; and of course he was allowed to sleep next to his seraph. Of course there would be some nightly rules that needed to be adhered to, but overall he was delighted with the new arrangement.

"And do you like what I bought for you?" Asked Evey with a filthy twinkle in her eye. V blushed slightly at the thought of lacy lingerie Evey had just purchased. _So much money for such little cloth_, he had pondered as she was paying at the till, _is this what young ladies of today spend their money on? _But if they looked half as delectable on Evey as they did on the mannequin, then he knew he was in for a real treat.

"I especially like what you bought for me. I shall expect a full demonstration of exactly where those little pieces of string go and just what they are meant to cover!" V exclaimed with a chuckle. Evey hugged V's arm tighter, moaning at him to quicken his step so they may arrive home faster.

"Patience my little Emily, good things come to he who wait!" V hushed.

"You weren't saying _that _earlier on…" Piped Evey with a naughty giggle.

"Yes…well…that was different." He stammered trying to forget the image of Evey, in only black silky stockings and suspenders, on her knees in the changing room with him in her mouth. _Time for more of that when we get back to the gallery, _he cogitated, quickening his pace considerably.

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"Oh look, I was going to mention it to you when we passed by here earlier today." Pronounced Evey, pointing a finger a tall block of dilapidated apartments that reached up into the grey evening sky.

"What is it my precious?" V enquired curiously, casting a suspicious eye over the disgraceful accommodation.

"That's where I got my tattoo…or a least the first half of it." She beamed, almost proud.

V went rigid and his mood plummeted from the lofty heights of happiness to the very pit of hatred. He felt a bolt of icy lightening course through his body violently, followed by a sharp shot of searing heat. The happiness of his day with Evey faded, it melted into the recesses of his darkening mind. All rapture, bliss and joy waned and slipped away. He was being consumed by an anger he had not felt for a very long time. He felt as if his heart was about to explode and his brain burst with anger. That place, that hovel, that eyesore upon the very face of London housed the man who had the audacity to touch his Evey, _his little Evey_. The man who had laid his unworthy fingers upon her skin, the man who inscribed her flesh with his filthy black ink. The man who lived in utter squalor and dared to defile something so pure, so precious; something that rightfully belonged to V.

The very thought of another man touching Evey awoke something inside him so primal, so medieval it made V shudder. This overwhelming emotion was so unadulteratedly violent he felt sick to his very core. It was an emotion so strong and so sadistic, he felt sure once released he knew not what he would do the creature that did not deserve life. He would mutilate him, carve his flesh from his bones, rip his fingers from his hands and make him watch as he burned them before his very face. He would send his enemy to the Underworld void of a tongue, ears or eyes, so all the dead would know that here was the fool that dared to touch Evey Hammond. His revenge would be the very pinnacle of cruelty, the very essence of true brutality, the most horrific and ruthless type of attack.

He felt a fury rising within him that that was so intense he thought he would burst. He was enraged, he was furious, delirious with anger and hate for the man, nay the snivelling insect that had been foolish enough to lay a hand upon his lady. He was maniacal with ire and incensed with rage. It coursed through his veins thicker than blood and with all the weight of lead. He felt himself begin to shake and he forced himself to use all his power to stop himself from going to that shit hole and tearing that man limb from limb.

_I vow that your deed will not go unpunished, you shall feel the wrath of all of hell upon you…you shall know the true meaning of vengeance_, he seethed under his breath. _Not now, not now...but soon._

"V…are you alright?" Evey asked, her voice unsure as she stopped just ahead of V. "You've gone all quiet, what's the matter? Is it something I've said?" Her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed as she glared at her silent masked lover.

Shaking his head ever so slightly, V turned to face Evey. "I am fine my beloved, absolutely fine do not fret." He hugged her to him even tighter and placed a gentle but cold kiss upon the soft crown of her head.

"Come on my love let us get home. I shall make us something delicious for dinner…and afterwards…well afterwards you can model that amazing underwear upon that exquisite body of yours and I shall enjoy you for dessert." V soothed, forcing a weak smile onto his thunderous face.

"And will dessert be with cream or without?" Evey laughed suggestively as she buried her face into the side of V's arm, taking refuge in his warmth.

"That my dear shall be left to your discretion!"

The couple began on their journey home once more under the guise of the growing darkness, but not before V cast one last murderous glare upon the building that housed his ultimate adversary. Under his breath he growled, deep, low and inaudibly making his solemn vow.

_I will find you, of that I swear…and when I do you best pray for mercy…you will curse the day you ever touched Evey Hammond…_


	16. Chapter 16

**_(A huge thank you to Belmont without whom this chapter probably wouldn't exist! Please read & review!)_**

_Chapter 16_

V was quite comfortable as he reclined into the couch. He hadn't felt this relaxed and at ease for a long time. Maybe it was because finally his life seemed to have something to look forward to other than the inevitable destruction of Parliament. Maybe it was because he finally trusted some one enough to share his home with. Or maybe it was due to the simple fact of having the world's most beautiful creature curled up beside him with her head resting in his lap.

_The latter, definitely the latter,_ he smiled contentedly deep inside, as he ran a finger round the curve of Evey's ear. She looked so stunning, a picture of radiance as she cosied up to him. He did not want to broach the subject now, but time was marching on and they would undoubtedly be retiring to the bedroom in not much time at all.

"Evey my love, I hate to disturb your relaxation, but we came in here to discuss a rather important matter. And so far we have barely said two words to each other on the subject. We need to set some rules my dear."

Evey licked her lips and stretched her lithe body, like a cat waking from her slumber. She wriggled onto her back and looked up at her masked lover, her head remaining in his lap.

"Alright." She paused for a moment, batting her eyes at him seductively. "What rules do you propose?"

V was finding it hard to concentrate. One look from her was enough to send him into the highest state of delirium; but he had to focus. He inhaled cautiously then spoke deftly, finding it difficult to say the words he knew had to be said. He was using all his trust, all his reliance to put himself in such a vulnerable position. This had to be one of the hardest tasks of his life; trusting someone other than himself.

"When we retire for the evening, there need to be some rules, some boundaries, do you not agree?"

"I do agree." Her smile widened as she sensed the uneasiness that radiated from V. _I bet his cheeks are glowing_, she mused silently.

V hesitated as he lightly ran his hand over her cropped hair. _What if I present the rules and she objects? What if she agrees to none of them? What will I do then?_ A myriad of brain frying questions raced through his head; all with a worse outcome than the one before it. He had no idea what her reaction could be, would be. He surmised there was only one way to find out…

"Good." He took a deep breath and shut his eyes tightly behind the mask. "Rule one: There can be no lights in the bedroom at any time whilst my mask is off. You shall go to bed first, and when you turn off the lights I shall join you. Is that agreeable?"

"It is my good sir!" Replied Evey with delight and amusement in her voice. "And if that is the only rule, I don't mind it at all." V opened his eyes and looked down on her. Was she mocking him?

"There are others." He continued slowly.

"Yes…I was certain there would be." She answered, cheekily raising an eyebrow and playfully rolling her eyes.

_Yes the little minx is mocking me, _he cogitated.

"Rule number two. If you wake before I do, again no lights, either you wake me so I can replace the mask or you wear the blindfold."

Evey frowned vehemently, her lip curled in annoyance. "No. No blindfold. Not ever again…I abhor that thing! I promise I will wake you."

Behind the mask V grinned and then nodded in agreement. "Very well, as you wish." This was going better than he thought it would. In fact, so far this was going fine. He was beginning to shed his doubt, lose his uncertainty. He was even beginning to feel a little…relieved.

"Good." He said, "Now…rule number three." He was distracted yet again by the vixen in his lap.

Reaching up, Evey gently touched his chest, running her hands over his shirt, her nimble fingers working its black shiny buttons. "Are there going to be many more rules?" She asked with a seductive lick of her lips and a slight sigh of exasperation.

"Ah, yes my love, in fact this brings us to our third rule." He took her hand in his own. "No exploring…"

Evey grinned widely at him putting him off his speech; she knew her diversion tactics were taking effect. "What? None at all? Are you _sure_ about that?"

"You know what I mean you little minx, at least not whilst I am sleeping or without my permission!" Beneath the mask he smiled at the cheeky girl before him. From anyone else, such antics and impudence would irritate him to distraction, but from her such thing were simply adorable and they made him melt.

Evey nodded in agreance. She knew how difficult this was for him, and that he must truly trust her to allow himself to be put in this situation. She was immensely proud of him, of how hard he was trying and at how much he had opened up to her. She was gripped by an overwhelming sense of happiness as it dawned upon her she was the only person he actually trusted enough to be around, let alone share a bed with. A warm feeling filled her inside as the first pangs of what must be a real relationship began to take hold of her.

"That's fine V; I'm more than happy with that. But…I have some rules of my own."

Behind the mask V looked bemused, he was taken a back that this little seraph should have her own guidelines that he must adhere to; it was the last thing he was expecting. But curiosity got the better of him; he had to know what sort of rules she had in her devious little mind. "And what may I ask are _your_ rules, my love?" He said, smiling inquisitively.

Evey let out a giggle as she sat up and pressed her body into his side, feeling his heart beat quicken. "First no mask in bed at all. I want to be able to kiss you and I want to be kissed. There can be no snogging if you are wearing that bloody mask…so no slipping it back on once I go to sleep, I know you V!"

_She does know me too well_, he thought as he continued to listen to her attentively.

"Second, there will be no socks, no gloves, and no wig…just pyjamas alright?"

A single nod from her lover signalled his compliance. Evey brought her free hand to the mask and caressed its painted cheek tenderly. With parted lips she placed a warm and loving kiss upon the cool lips of the mask. Behind the mask, V longed to reciprocate.

"Any other rules my little coquette?"

"Well…as for the other rules." She smiled seductively whilst gazing into his black eyes. "I will just think of them as and when they're needed…"

--------------------

"Ready to turn the light out?" Called Evey from the middle of V's cold bed. She had showered but not dressed; she lay completely naked and was now waiting for their first night together, as a couple in _their _bed.

"Yes, if you are?" Called V from his bathroom.

Leaning over, Evey scooted to the side of the bed and swiftly switched off the lamp. In a matter of seconds she heard the bedroom door open, then close again gently, then a shuffling sound of slippers on the stone. She felt the bed give slightly as V climbed in next to her. There was a tense hesitation and then a small clink as he laid his mask on the table at his bedside.

For a moment he did not move, his body stiff and rigid. He froze, unable to move or relax. Then slowly, he settled down next to her and pulled the duvet toward him.

"Well." Said Evey after a few moments of tense silence. She was afraid to move towards her lover. Scared to touch him in case of his reaction. Terrified he would change his mind, grab the mask and bolt from the room. "What now?"

V was silent. Not a sound.

"V?"

"We sleep?" He sheepishly answered at last.

Suddenly Evey burst out laughing. "Oh this will not do V! You are far too nervous and you really have no reason to be!" Turning on to her side sharply, she reached for him in the dark. "I think I need to inspect you to make certain you are not breaking any of the rules."

Her hand landed on his arm and she could feel the silk of the new pyjamas beneath her touch. She was disappointed at not seeing them in all their glory upon the body of the man she desired so much, but she began her inspection none the less. Starting at his elbow, she followed the length of silk down to his hand where her delicate fingers met with his gnarled flesh and uneven skin. She was not deterred as she lingered a moment, actually quite the opposite. She felt strangely aroused that finally she was able to touch him properly; not through unfeeling material or through lifeless porcelain, but skin on skin. She was touching and feeling her lover for the first time in their being together and this excited her.

"Hmm, doesn't feel like a glove on that one." She purred into his ear.

V gasped and then became very still once more, his body rigid.

"And the other one?" Asked Evey. She felt him move tentatively and then his other hand was suddenly resting on hers. V was savouring the feel of her skin on his. It felt amazing, truly wonderful to touch her without the confines of unloving leather. "Not a glove on that one either." She said in a breathless voice. Heat was radiating off him in waves, and Evey could feel the familiar tide of desire begin to grow inside her. She tried desperately to ignore it and continue on with her inspection.

"Socks?" She whispered in the darkness. "Do you have on socks?"

The covers shifted and she felt a warm bare foot move across her leg. Still he did not speak, but held her hand firmly in his own. Evey could hear his breath becoming more rapid by the moment, shallow and lustful.

Trying desperately to ignore the desire that was flooding through her body, Evey spoke quietly. "Mask? Do you have on the mask or the wig?"

The hand which had been gripping hers tightened and lifted her hand slowly. As V raised Evey's hand to his face, he turned suddenly, forcing her onto her back with his body hovering over her. She felt her breath escape her lungs as she exhaled in surprise. She froze for a moment, unsure of what to expect next.

She was shocked when she realized there was suddenly hot breath on her washing over her cheek, and the grip on her hand tightened considerably. He was wearing neither mask nor wig; he was as he swore he would be…completely disguise free. A strange and new sensation snaked its way through Evey, she could not describe the feeling. Here, above her, less than an inch away was her lover. The man who has remained behind his mask for so long, the man who has hidden behind cloth for the entire time she had known him. He was here, above her and she could not see him. She felt slightly frustrated in a way, but knew this was a huge step for him to take, so the frustration quickly passed. She just longed for him. Longed to touch him, to see him, to view the man she had fallen so helplessly in love with. She knew that time would come, but it would not be soon enough.

Then the mood in the bedroom suddenly changed. There was tension in the air and a nervousness that filled the room. The pair remained very still for the longest time, neither sure whether they should make the first move. There was no sound, save the occasional deep inhale and short exhale. After what seemed an eternity, V made the first move. With an agonizing slowness, he raised Eveys soft hand to his cheek. Before her fingers made contact with his skin he hesitated and Evey could sense his body stiffen once more. She heard him inhale, waited a moment, but there was no exhale. She understood just how nervous this man was; he was quivering ever so slightly.

As her fingers made contact with his face, her breathing stopped and she hesitated for a moment, unsure whether she should go any further. Still holding her hand firmly, V apprehensively brushed her fingers against his tender lips, then up and over his closed eyes. Her fingers felt his skin, rough and smooth, gnarled and untouched. It was a stark contrast to her silky smooth skin, but it made no odds to her. V allowed her fingers to trail unguided across his face, lingering for a few seconds in each undiscovered place, savouring the moment and such an intimate touch. Across his eyes, over the bridge of his nose, down the side of his cheeks and back over his lips. Her fingers remained upon them for a while; with a gossamer touch Evey ran her index finger over them. His lips were soft, supple and perfect are kissing, and she realised in that moment just how much she cared for the scarred man above her. She could sense that he was still very tense and obviously terrified; she had to relax the mood and make him feel more comfortable. She knew exactly what to do.

"These are mine." She said softly in the darkness, keeping her fingers to his lips. She felt the corners of his mouth turn up into a slight smile.

"And so are these…" She tapped each of his cheeks lightly.

"And these are only for me…" She whispered, stroking his closed eyes carefully.

"And I love this, it's mine as well…" She giggled low as she patted his nose. She paused briefly feeling tears well in her eyes.

"In fact, all of this is mine…all of you belongs to me." She took his face into her hands a placed a delicate kiss upon his cheek. Something so small, words so child like tugged at V's heart and he could not stop himself from smiling as Evey caressed his face.

Evey felt elated and overjoyed that at long last she was able to feel him beneath her touch. She was stunned, truly blown away that she was being permitted touching him so intimately. Then her hand was once again being guided up to the side and across the back of his head before it was lowered back to the bed. Evey could not believe that she had touched his face for the first time. A sense of extreme happiness engulfed her as she memorised the contours of his skin, the curve of his lips, the smoothness of his cheek. Each touch was only brief, but she knew from each one that he was beautiful, handsome and utterly attractive. She knew she could not love him any more even if she tried. She pulled him closer to her and whispered softly in his ear.

"You are beautiful." She cried as a tear rolled down her face and melted into the pillow.

Eveys words hit V like nothing ever had before. He felt sure his heart was breaking with the impact of her prose. His head spun as her words swirled around his head. The sweet sentence she just uttered mixed with his building desire, his growing affection and his unquestionable love for her, to form a potent cocktail that made him deliriously happy. All the times he had stalked about the outside world; just observing and watching, occasionally coming across a couple crazy in love. All the times he had wondered what it must be to have someone who loves you so deeply and so unquestionably. It was happening, here and now, and it was happening to him. But it also struck V that for the first time since he could remember he had been touched on the face by a person, by another human being. The feeling of relief that washed over him as his love did not recoil in disgust was over powering, he almost wanted to weep with her. She had not screamed, had not withdrawn in horror, she had not fled from his touch. She had touched him with so much love and so much kindness he thought it never existed. In all his wildest dreams he could not have imagined this moment to be so perfect, so infinitely sweet. He would never stop loving this woman. The tides would ebb, the sands would shift and the sky would fall, but he would never be able to cease his adoration for the angel beneath him.

His breathing was becoming less rapid; he was finally relaxing and feeling much more at ease. He brought his free hand to her side, pulling her to him in a tight and passionate embrace. Evey felt his body carefully lowering on to hers, his weight reassuring. Releasing Evey's hand, V carefully touched the side of her peachy cheek, running his bare finger tips across her lips. He did not have to see her; the darkness could not hide her beauty. He had memorised every part of her and his eyes could recognise her exquisiteness even in the total black. There was no woman alive that could hold a torch to her, she was absolutely magnificent and unrivalled her in beauty.

"As are you…my sweetest Evey." He whispered into her ear, before he slowly and carefully kissed her. His tongue gradually invaded her mouth; he began stroking and caressing her own tongue lovingly. His kiss was deep and caring, filled with devotion, adoration and boundless love. The kiss was so exquisite, so delicately superb that he did not want it to end

Evey thought it was possibly the most erotic kiss she had ever received in her life. She gave herself up to him wholly and without resistance. Although it was not her first time with him, it felt as though it were. It was the start of a new type of relationship, one built on trust and a deep rooted love.

She knew that night they would not just have sex…they would truly make love.


	17. Chapter 17

_**(Yoda...1000 thank yous.)**_

_**(As always…I pray you may leave a review…)**_

_Chapter 17_

Evey was sleeping when V decided it was time to arise. He had not slept at all. Instead, he had watched over his precious angel with liquid eyes till exhaustion carried her to the land of nod. He was jealous of her sleeping; that she was beckoned away from him and his attentions by the temptation of cotton candy dreams, luscious slumber and delicious comfort. He was jealous she had been lured from him by none other than Mr Sandman, that elusive character who evaded V so very well.

He lay very still next to her, observing the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest in the darkness and studying her face. Her steady breathing was almost enough to make him want to doze off, but not quite enough. Every now and again her mouth twitched to the right, making him want to capture those perfect lips with his own.

Monitoring her body for any movement or sign of she might wake, he ran a finger down her back, tracing the delicate curve of her spine. The smoothness of her skin fascinated him, making him think of a fine satin or delicate Chinese silk. How could something so soft, so divine move so perfectly against a rough misshapen form such as himself? He thanked the Fates for their mistake in sending her to him; surely such an exquisite creature was never meant for a monster. He shook the developing dark thoughts from his head, instead concentrating on the girl before him.

Trailing a finger over her pursed lips, V shuddered, remembering where they had been only hours before. He felt the familiar stirring in his groin as he thought of how those lips has encompassed him, sucking and licking him vigorously. But he would not wake her. He would not ask her to satisfy his hunger for her again, that would come later. Even without touching her, he was content to simply be in her presence and bask in her radiance. It felt good to finally have her in his bed, _their_ bed, holding and touching her. He enjoyed just laying with her; listening, watching, feeling.

Evey's light breathing was barely audible in the pitch black of the unlit bedroom. She lay naked on gossamer sheets, nestled into the thick black duvet, her head cocooned in the deep heavy pillows. She was sleeping soundly, plunged into the very deepest pit of slumber. V watched her intently and then turned his mind to the nagging little voice which had been bothering him since their shopping outing.

--------

"_Oh look, I was going to mention it to you when we passed by here earlier today_

"_What is it my precious?" _

"_That's where I got my tattoo…or a least the first half of it." _

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V felt jealously seize him, like a white hot fist tightening around his reason and sense. He pushed the duvet gently to one side as his fingers drifted down to the brand on her thigh. It was still raw, but was healing nicely.

_"Only problem is."_ Said the annoying little voice in his head, _"Someone else touched her to create it. You are not entirely responsible for that mark."_

V let his fingers trace over the mark…his brand. He had given her his brand, but the other…who was this man, this fiend who had dared to place his hands on his Evey? The fist of rage tightened again, something had to be done.

After assessing the room for a few moments, V felt satisfied Evey would be safe if he left. He knew she would not be awake before he returned. He would slip out, do what was necessary and be by her side before she even began to rise from her slumber. He felt confident he could do what he needed desperately to do and she would never be none the wiser.

Slipping from the bed, he changed in the pitch black. He needed no lights in the gallery; he knew his way around in both day and night.

Turning, V stood in the darkened doorway of the bedroom, watching Evey for a few moments. She was still fast asleep and he was clad in black from head to toe. He cast a final glance toward his sleeping seraph.

"Forgive me for what I do my love; in the depths of insanity the sane man holds no court." He whispered, before leaving with a swirl of his cloak


	18. Chapter 18

**_Ok ok, I'm sorry about the previous chapter being so short, hope this makes up for it! As always, reviews appreciated! Yoda...my muse...I bow.)_**

_**Warning:This chapter contains strong language and violence.**_

_Chapter 18_

V's current surroundings disgusted him; repulsed him to the core of his being. He was amazed he was willingly subjecting his body to such ignominy; but then again, a man in the throws of passion and anger will do many things.

Even in the dark he was revolted_. No mammal should live in such squalor_, he thought. This type of abode was fit only for the roaches. The crumbling walls, the shredded wallpaper, the torn up floor boards, the lingering stench; all of it made him feel sick. The reek hung like a shroud over the darkened room; V's hyper sensitive sense of smell detected a thousand and one smells. Permeating from every surface, every crevice was a nauseating mix of cigarettes, dope, sex, urine and alcohol. It was sickening; V felt as if he were being infected; that these hideous toxins were polluting his body just by simply inhaling.

He flared his nostrils in utter abhorrence as he forced himself to take another breath, lest he pass out through lack of oxygen.

He shuddered when he thought of what the room looked like in the light. He heard the many cockroaches scurrying around his feet as he stood deathly still; he was certain he had viewed a number of rats as well. In fact, he felt himself step in something slimy and living as he entered the room. V was absolutely horrified he had to be in this place, but what disturbed him even more was the fact his little Evey had willingly subjected herself to this environment. She had been here, breathed this foul air, stepped upon the most ungodly of floors. It totally repulsed him to even consider his love here, let alone allowing someone to touch her in such a squalid environment. This was truly a scene from hell; the magnitude of which could not be formed into words.

V knew the type of filth who lived here; he knew what repugnant creature he was dealing with, so he found the surroundings were very befitting. Just thinking of him, simply allowing this insect to invade his thoughts cast a red mist over V's eyes. He felt that similar tide of anger and total hatred rise within him. He felt his blood turn molten, and felt his heart about to explode. But he closed his eyes momentarily, took a difficult breath and tried to quell his anger, saving it for him.

He heard the man approaching the room long before he reached the door. Loud, cumbersome footsteps upon creaking floorboards. Even without seeing him, V knew the type of man he was; grossly overweight, a smoker, a heavy drinker, slow, unresponsive and certainly not quick enough to match V's own agility. He had calculated all this as he languished in the pitch black of the unlit room he had so easily gained entry to. The very thought of such a glutton angered him, that a man would happily allow himself to become a pig and throw away all dignity and self worth. But this time, such greed and self-indulgence would certainly work in V's favour.

_He is no match for me, I may actually spare him, seems too easy_, V mused with a sadistic grin upon his face.

V dipped his head low, knowing his face would be shrouded in shadow under the brim of his hat once the room was lit. He wanted the drama, liked to make an impression upon those who he hunted. The heavy footsteps finally reached the room; V heard the rusting door handle turn and the door push open slowly. He sensed a fat grubby hand feeling the wall for the light switch. V subconsciously grasped his dagger tighter; using every ounce of self control to not pounce upon this insect and spill his life upon the floor. He gritted his teeth and released his grip, relaxing his hand once more.

Suddenly the room illuminated and burst with a bright light. It was only then in that split second before announcing himself did he view the room in all its abhorrent glory. V's gag reflex kicked in as the stench got worse; the man had undoubtedly brought it in with him, if in actual fact he was not the cause of said reek. V had not retched in years, but the sight that greeted his eyes and the strength of the smell made him do so now. If it was possible, the room was even worse than he had ever imagined. Memories of Larkhill and the filth many were forced to live in instantly came to mind.

The roaches that had free reign in the black, scattered and disappeared into cupboards and under the skirting boards. Empty beer-cans, half filled takeaway cartons, condom packets and discarded cigarette ends littered the floor. The light bulb that lit the room flickered and dimmed, fizzing and crackling as unharnessed electricity surged into it. The carpet that had once been brightly coloured was stained with a multitude of unknown substances, turning it grey and sodden. The wallpaper was torn from the walls, and what was upon the walls was smeared with various fluids and liquids. Ashtrays full of choking ash and dirty cigarette butts claimed nearly every free space. Dishes, cups, knives and forks, all filthy and encrusted, filled the tiny overflowing sink. Balls of dust and body hair congregated in every crevice and corner of the room. V was simply aghast as he took in the room before him; it plunged him further into despair as he thought of his precious lover being in this very room.

But before he could scan any further, V's attention swiftly switched to the filth that had just entered the room. From under the rim of his hat, V watched the man stagger about the room clumsily. The way he moved and his inability to function on a normal level convinced him that all was not well with the insect before him. It became acutely apparent to him that the man was obviously under the influence of something; either alcohol, drugs or even both. Although the man reeked of both strongly, the smell of burnt dope followed the man closely, allowing V to deduce that the man was in all probability stoned.

"Good evening Mr Davenport." V growled, a low panthers purr in the back of his throat.

The intoxicated man spun around trying to focus upon the man clad in black before him. V saw the man's dilated pupils struggling to make sense of him; he smiled to himself at thought of how ridiculously easy this was going to be.

"Wha…what the fuck? Who the fuck are you?" Mr Davenport bellowed, as he grasped the arm of a chair for balance. His grotesqueness made V want to drive a dagger into his throat and end his miserable, pointless existence. But he decided to wait and play his little game.

"I think you know who I am Mr Davenport, so do not insult my intelligence by making me explain myself." V purred, raising his head and allowing the light to flood over his mask.

Mr Davenport's eyes widened in realisation, understanding exactly who was addressing him. But he did what V was least expecting, the very last thing he would have thought of. The man laughed. A loud disgusting belly laugh that almost shook the room. His mouth was cavernous and the laughter rang in V's ears. This vexed him immensely.

"Well fuck me sideways, you're that nutter off the fuckin' telly! The one they're looking for! You're a psycho mate…you really are, talk about anger management problems. Weren't breast feed as a kid were ya'?" He guffawed obscenely.

"I would appreciate if you curbed your language." Growled V dangerously, the man's obscene words offending his intellect.

Mr Davenport chuckled to himself, possibly through lack of understanding the gravity of the situation he was in. "So what the fuck can I do for you?" He swore again, disregarding V's request for decorum.

"Well Mr Davenport, it is more what I am going _to do to you_ unless you clarify some things for me, little details I do not quite understand if you will…" V maintained his posture, imposing and unfeeling.

"What in god's name do you want me to tell you 'eh? I ain't that smart so don't go using big fuck of fancy words an' shit…" The man replied, placing a hand upon his hip.

_Indeed;_ V mused silently, sickened by this mans apparent lack of vocabulary and common decency. He could not quite believe he was mixing with such a low-life. Parting his lips every so slightly, he uttering two very simple words.

"Evey Hammond." Snarled V through curled lips.

A filthy smile broke out across the man's dirt smeared face, revealing a few missing teeth. His eyes began to sparkle at the mere mention of her name.

"Ah…sex on legs you mean?" Mr Davenport bellowed, placing an unsteady hand upon his hip and stretching himself backwards. The red mist of anger descended upon V once more, his fury rising in him. Desperately trying to keep his cool, he spoke slowly again.

"Excuse me?" Muttered as less than a whisper.

"Evey Hammond? Sex on legs! Christ that is one bird I'd love to bang! She's a right looker… firm little arse, great tits. Bet she's a wildcat in the sack!" The obscene man announced.

How V kept is cool was a miracle. It was a true testament to his patience. Outwardly he remained calm and collected, but inside the fire ignited. His fuse had been truly lit by the words the fat man had uttered. V was fuming; furious and consumed with rage. The fact this insect had touched her made his blood boil, but the way he spoke of her incensed him. For a man to say such things about his Evey was cause enough for extreme amounts of pain to be inflicted. V envisaged himself ramming one of his blades through the mans eye sockets and deep into that pathetic excuse for a brain, but no…that would not be painful enough. He would wait a little longer and see just how much more Mr Davenport had to say.

"I understand she came to you, some weeks ago…" But before V could finish his sentence, the man interrupted with another barrage of obscenities.

"Ha ha ha! Yeah she came to me…wish she had of been comin' for me if ya' know what I mean!" He roared.

Keeping as calm as he could, V pushed the stoned man for more information.

"And what did she come to you for, Mr Davenport?"

"A fuckin' egg…what do you think ya' daft bastard? I'm a tattooist so I'm guessin' that's what she came for! Fuck me, when I touched her I nearly creamed meself! I had to go have a wank after she'd left! In fact…I wanked for days after that, just on the smell of her!" The man didn't seem to want to stop talking.

V's grip on his dagger tightened and his posture became ramrod straight. Fury washed over him in waves and only one single thought repeated itself in his mind…_Evey let this insect touch her_. She_ let_ this touch her. She asked him too. V felt vile. He felt unclean. When he got home, he would teach her a lesson. He would wipe this insects' filth from her body forever. Tilting his head, V considered the vermin before him. He had to know.

"What did you do to her exactly?" V seethed through clenched teeth.

"Wha' the fuck do you mean? You want to know if I fucked her? Fuck no, but by God just to get one of those fuckin' sweet tits in my mouth I'd have drank a gallon of me' own piss! I would be in heaven." Davenports eyes narrowed as he looked V up and down suspiciously.

'Oi, what ya' so pissed about anyway?' Then suddenly, he let out a mighty roar of laughter as realisation set in.

"God! Fuck me fuckin' sideways, _you've_ had her. You're fuckin' her aren't you?You're shaggin' her you sly cunt! That why she wanted that fuckin tattoo. Keepin' her locked away like a sex slave or summat! You dirty bastard…" The grin on his face was huge and there was a look of unadulterated lust which made V sick. He could see that the very thought of such perversity was arousing Davenport.

"What she like? Bet she's a right goer, a real filthy bitch! You gotta' tell me mate, what she taste like? I bet she's sweeter than sugar. Is she tight? I fuckin' bet she is." He roared.

V killed him in a blink of the eye. With his cold steel daggers he had driven them into the ipitomy of repugnance and V was glad. He had disembowelled and beheaded the man before V even realised he had moved. Davenport did not have time to react; V was upon him within the blink of an eye, like a panther upon its well stalked prey. Davenport's claret blood splattered the walls; in long thin lines it trickled to the floor where it pooled and looked almost black. His intestines were slick and dying upon the floor. His huge, filthy severed head had rolled into the corner of the room and with dead eyes it stared at V.

Standing, looking over the dead man's headless body, V was truly shaking. His unfeeling eyes showed no remorse, he was pleased with his work. He had to get home, back to the gallery. This thing had _touched_ her. _His Evey needed to be cleaned_.

--------------------

V began to disrobe long before he entered the Gallery. Having the clothes upon his body was angering him all over again.

He tossed his cloak and jacket aside, desperately trying to rid himself of hell's foulest stench. The clothes would not be saved, they would be burned immediately. The very smell of the filth on his clothes, in his nostrils made him sick; he could taste it. Walking straight to Evey's bathroom, he showered; rubbing his skin raw and standing in the water till it turned cold. He was glad he did not use his own bathroom, he would have certainly awoken Evey and he did not wish to explain.

Stepping out with only the towel around him, V made his way in the dark to his bedroom. He sighed deeply as the feel of renewed skin delighted him. He was clean. The smell, the dirt, the filth had disappeared down the plughole and he had been restored. But now it was Evey's turn. Climbing into bed next to her, he felt for his brand, making her stir. He ran rough fingers over the slightly slick mark and was reassured when he found it was still there. Dropping his head, he bit her shoulder hard and slid his hand between her legs.

"V?" Asked Evey sleepily, her eyes hazy. "What are…" V's mouth crashed down upon hers, cutting off her words. His hungry lips encompassing her own. _He_ was the only man who could touch her. He and he alone. She was about to learn that.


	19. Chapter 19

_  
**(A MASSIVE thank you to Yoda who really helped with this chapter...you're a little star!)**_

_Chapter 19 _

V stood at the end of the bed, watching Evey sleep. He was absolutely exhausted and all he wanted to do was to climb into bed next to his love and hold her tightly in his arms. His body ached, his muscle were sore and his head hurt incredibly. It had been five long months since he had killed Davenport; since he spilled his blood and extinguished the flame of his miserable life. Five long months since he had returned to the gallery and made love to Evey with such vigor and ferocity that neither of the two had been able to walk properly for days.

V smiled weakly.

Yes, passionate was an extreme understatement when describing their relationship. Intense, emotional, wild, violent and uncontrollable. His need for her; her need for him was boundless, endless as the sea. Time itself would not stop them; theirs was a true union of the soul and spirit. Their love would go unrivalled throughout the ages; they would be silent and unknown martyrs to the cause of passion. He loved her with an intensity that burned; so powerful and captivating it was that it consumed him. It coursed through him every day in legions. _Perhaps that is why it's so painful;_ he thought ruefully as he pulled off his boots then dropped his socks and trousers unceremoniously on the floor with his other clothing.

There was no reason to put on his pajamas. He had abandoned them months ago. He was comfortable around her in his nakedness, his last vestige of liberty dropped. Now he only wore them to aggravate and tease Evey; they drove her wild. How the little minx loved to undress him. He would don the pajamas and climb into bed and she would have to inspect him carefully, declaring:

"_Oh no, there is a button loose here." _

"_I beg your pardon Evey but these are new. You tore the last pair to rags in your eagerness for me to ravish you. There are no loose buttons here my little coquette." _

Dropping his head slightly, he remembered how Evey bit the buttons off his shirt and spat them on the floor

"_Now there is, and rules are rules. That shirt must come off. Now, then……lets check the rest of you."_

--------------------

Pulling back the duvet, V looked at Evey. He gazed at her as she lay nestled comfortably, her fingers twitching involuntarily as she slept. She was as an angel, heavenly, divine and utterly without fault. She was the finest creation that God had ever had the foresight to make. He smiled to himself as he observed that the little minx was wearing the pajamas tonight, an open invitation to another type of game. What an even better game it was, much more fun. A game where _he_ had to reclaim his possessions and his clothing, always ending in sensual and passionate love making. But not tonight. He did not feel like playing tonight. He was literarily too tired, too exhausted; there were far too many issues playing on his mind to allow him to concentrate on this particular game.

Sitting down on the edge on the bed carefully as to try not to wake Evey, V dropped his weary head into his hands and allowed his worries and concerns to creep to the front of his thoughts. _October 31st…Halloween_. That date, that day repeated itself over and over in his mind. Like a shard of doom lodged deep into his brain it bit at him. After tonight, there was only four days remaining…four days until he marched into certain death. As he reclined into the bed a little, he felt his love stir slightly.

"V?" asked Evey sleepily, rubbing her eyes innocently. Rising up in bed, she crawled next to him and draped herself across his bare back. Kissing his shoulder as her arms fell around his neck, she whispered to him.

"V come to bed. You've been away all day and half the night." She kissed his shoulder again, flicking out her tongue and tasting his flesh.

"I've been waiting for you….I've _missed_ you." She moaned seductively in his ear. "The only way you get the pajamas is if you remove them from me first."

V nodded and patted her hand sadly. "Not tonight my sweet Evey. I'm just too tired. You keep them; I find them quite flattering on you anyway."

Evey blinked several time in shock. Now she was truly awake. Had she just heard him correctly? Did he just _refuse_ her sex? Did he just say he was _not_ interested? Too tired? Alarm bells began ringing in her head.

"What's wrong?" She whimpered, instantly wrapping herself around him. She took his cheek in her hand; she looked into his burned and scared face. "My prince, tell me what's happened. Are you hurt?"

"No." He shook his head reassuringly, stroking his fingers through her re-growing hair. "I'm just tired Evey and believe it or not I am only human…and I do unfortunately get tired just as you do my love." He tried to sound jovial, but he was failing; he knew Evey would see through his feeble attempt at a diversion.

"Liar." She hissed, pushing away from him hard. Sitting back against the head board of the bed, her arms crossed over the silk pajama top. "Liar, liar, liar." There was unmistakable anger in her voice as she spat the same word at him over and over. It resonated throughout his brain, like a splinter in his mind.

Turning, V looked at her, flicking a fleeting glance in her direction before turning away once more. "Alright……yes Evey, I am a liar. You are right." He said, not even bothering to resist her accusations. Again, his head went into his hands. Evey sensed this was more than simply one of his moods; this was something else…something she had never seen before. It frightened her deeply.

"V?" She said. She moved forward and tried to touch him lightly on the hand, but he shot to his feet, away far from her reach. It were as if he had recoiled in utter horror, disgust and repugnance. This bold statement nearly moved Evey to tears. "V, please tell me what's bothering you. You're scaring me." She wailed as tears welled in her eyes.

"It's October 31st Evey. It's Halloween as of two hours. There is only four more days. Four more days until I die. Four more days until I leave you and I cannot bare it. The very thought of it makes me sick to the pit of my stomach and I can stand it no longer." He replied despairingly clenching his fists tight, his eyes veiled in a swath of grey sadness.

'No…no…NO." Evey shook her head adamantly like a petulant child. "NO. You are not going to die. You _will_ kill Creedy and then you are coming home…_to me_. We have discussed this V. You are going to survive, you have to."

He looked at her and observed the stubborn determination on her face that endeared her to him so. He felt his heart breaking as he gazed into her glassy eyes. He felt it shattering, splintering inside him. Unbeknowingly to Evey, her words were tearing him apart. Her confidence of the situation, her unwavering belief in him was almost too much to bear. She was so sure, so certain all would be well. How could she understand the torments of the damned he was suffering? The sheer hopelessness of the situation he faced?

"No…Evey my beautiful love, I will not. I will _not_ survive this, I have known it always and I know it now. I know I shall die in four days time and I _shall_ leave you." His voice was quiet as he stepped toward her and laid a hand on her cheek. He wanted to cry with her as he watched the first tear trickle down her face and melt into the pajama top. "It is my fate and I shall face it."

Reaching up, she took the hand at her face. She kissed it roughly, grasping it tightly and holding it against her cheek. She allowed her tears to fall freely now, no longer hiding the pain and desperation she was also feeling.

"You can't leave me. You can't. I can't live without you…I won't survive." She sobbed.

_When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love_; mused V silently before answering Evey.

"And I without you." V replied sitting on the bed. He scooted next to her, pulling her into his arms and close to his body, feeling the rhythmic beat of her heart against his chest. "I swear to you now Evey, I will do everything in my power to survive this. Everything I have I will use to fight what is doomed to happen, but it does not feel right Evey. I do not feel positive about this, and I never have done. But above all my love…I am afraid…not for myself, but for you. What shall happen to you if I fail?"

"You won't. You will have your vendetta, you will do what you set out to accomplish and you are going to live." She cried, raising her head and staring into V's eyes. Her own burned with a dying hope and a fading glimmer of optimism. "Do you hear me V? You will live and you and I will grow old together…side by side." Her fingers were sinking into his arms as she spoke and he should feel her hot tears running down his chest.

He knew that arguing with her would serve no purpose, and that trying to convince her of the sickening feeling inside him would be futile. She was so certain all would be well, but V knew otherwise, deep down he knew his fate was planned. That his destiny was mapped out for him as it always had been. That there was no way he could avoid the inevitable. But he also knew that there was no point in wasting their last few precious days together bickering.

"Yes, Evey." He stroked her hair forlornly, pulling her down into the bed with him. "I will live."

V felt her begin to slide her hand towards his groin, undoubtedly wishing to instigate more than he felt happy with. Taking her roving hand and placing it back upon his chest he whispered to her in the lightly lit room.

"No please not tonight. Just hold me Evey……just hold me."

--------------------

The next morning Evey awoke to find V gone.

His space beside her in their bed was empty and had long gone cold. A cold feeling swathed her as her eyes widened, a lump rose in her throat and her hands went clammy. A horrific terror seized her as she flew from the bed and rushed into the gallery. She was convinced he had left her: had fled in the night, unable to say goodbye. Her brain screamed at her that her lover, the most important man in her life had crawled away indignantly to lick his wounds and await his death. She felt sick as thoughts of her abandonment clouded her mind.

But a wave of relief washed over her as she saw him; in his mask, wig, and bathrobe, just sitting on the couch, staring into space. She wanted to weep when she realized he had not abandoned her, only he could not sleep or relax. Timidly, she approached the sofa where V was seated. Her heart was in her mouth and she could barely breathe.

"V?" She called out gently.

But he gave no reply. He simply sat as still as a statue, not flinching at all.

She walked to the front of the couch and looked at him with sad eyes. He sat; poised and silent. Seemingly calm and unmoved as if deep in contemplation. His position and his silence were dangerous, something Evey had never seen from V before. His mask smiled at her, his black eyes gleamed and his rosy cheeks suggesting a playful and happy disposition. But his mask could not have been lying more.

She settled herself upon the floor on her knees, between his legs. Carefully she stroked his thigh expecting a reaction, but he gave no response.

"V…please talk to me." She almost begged, her voice tinged with fear.

Again he gave no reply. He remained motionless, tranquil and quiet.

His porcelain face continuing to smile into the void. He looked like he was about to pounce, about to strike. His face told of happiness, joviality and laughter, as if it might emit a slight chuckle or guffaw. But instead of this there came a slight sniff, possibly even a whimper from beneath the mask. Detecting this tiny change, Evey furrowed her brow. She slowly raised herself to near his level and carefully brought her hands to the edges of the mask. She half expected him to stop her, but the quest went unhindered. She slid the wig from his head and placed it next to him on the couch. She allowed her hands to slowly raise the mask from him, little by little revealing his face to her. His charred chin came into view, then his mouth and then his scorched cheeks. His face did not repulse her, it never had; she saw only beauty and a man as handsome as she had ever seen. She turned her head as she placed the mask with his wig. She expected to be greeted with that same steely expression, not smiling yet not grimacing either. That look that implied deep contemplation or thought. But when she turned to face him again, what she saw broke her heart. As her eyes met his, she felt her heart stop beating.

Tears poured down V's face. His emerald eyes turned red as his salty tears stung them.

Evey had never seen V crying before, so to see such a thing tore her apart. His cheeks stained with a multitude of tear lines, his face wet where they had been. He was so strong and resilient, nothing fazed him. He was brave and daring, bold and courageous. He was her super hero, her knight, her king. He spoke of things she had never dreamed of, showed her things she thought not possible and taught her to love without restraint. But now he sat before her, disheveled and in tears. Unable to cry in front of her, he had reduced himself to crying only behind his mask. She wondered if this was the first time…or if there had been others. The mask that she once loved now frightened her as she looked upon it as his oppressor, a cloak of untrue feeling.

Flinging her arms around him and holding him closely, V grasped Evey hard and buried his face into her shoulder. She felt him shake as he let go, as the tears of months of evil and worry coursed from his eyes and into her pajamas. His muscles relaxed, his body let go and he breathed deeply as he held Evey. He felt reassured and loved as he grasped her tightly. He felt comforted and slightly happier as the love of his life continued to wrap herself around him. Such a small gesture that meant so much to him.

For Evey, it felt so strange to be comforting a titan; but then again when a hero fails…who picks him up?

It was true, there was much she did not know about V; his past, his previous life…who he really was. But none of that mattered as she tended to him now. It felt as though he had given her something so intimate, finally opened up to her and allowed himself to cry in her presence. In a strange way she felt honored that he loved and trusted her enough to permit himself this final liberty. But in another way she felt deeply saddened, that she was the reason for so much of his pain, so much of his torment. She was upset that she was the reason for his tears.

She stroked the back of V's head tenderly, attempting to calm and reassure him as he clung to her. She soothed him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. She kissed the side of his face gently, letting him know she was close, letting him know she loved him.

Slowly V raised his head away from Evey's shoulder. He looked into her perfect face and gazed into her beautiful eyes. He saw them sparkle with so much love, so much passion and adoration. Her faced held such innocence, yet so much understanding and knowledge. He searched her eyes for the right words to say. He longed to gush with sonnets and odes of love and obsession, with poems and lyrics of passion and infatuation…but he could not. It were as if the ink pot of his creativity had run dry and he found no fancy words or clever lines to say. V decided to say the only thing he saw fit to say in the situation, the only thing he could and wanted to say.

Taking one of her soft hands in his own, he grasped it tightly before closing his eyes planting a lingering kiss upon it. A stray tear fell from his face and landed on her hand, before melting away into her skin. Mustering the strength to speak, he hushed low.

"Thank you Evey…a thousand times thank you."

Evey smiled at him as he withdrew from the kiss and stared sadly into her face once more.

"Thank you? Thank you for what V?"

He paused but a moment before speaking again.

"Thank you…for loving me." He wept.


	20. Chapter 20

_**AN: Okay guys...this fic has finally come to an end.**_

**_I'd like to say thank you to all of those who followed this fic and hope you all enjoyed it. It's been lots of fun to write, but it had to come to an end some time. _****_I truly hope you like the ending...I know I do!_**

**_As always...a huge thank you to Yoda, my muse and an amazing beta. Your help has been invaluable._**

**_Anyway...enough clap trap...enjoy the conclusion._**

_Chapter 20_

Evey Hammond stood in the middle of the Shadow Gallery looking around her.

The beautiful paintings still smiled with hues of orange and pink. The amazing sculptures held their endless classical poses with delicately poised fingers. The ancient artworks had not faded or weathered with time. The comical posters still laughed with bright white teeth, happy faces and gouache colours. The air was still old, heavy and stifling. The thick stone of the walls still grey and entombing.

Nothing had changed. Nothing.

But Evey knew deep down, that was not the truth. Everything had changed. Everything has to change. Everything _always_ changes.

_You can never step in the same river twice_, was the thought that darted into her mind at that point. V had taught her that. But with a dismissive sigh she waved it from her mind.

_How did I get here?_ She mused with a burdened heart. Where had all the time gone? It had disappeared so fast it didn't seem real. It seemed like only yesterday that she was being rescued by that beautiful and deadly masked man from the clutches of the fingermen. Only yesterday that they had first made love with such furor and she had felt as if she were being consumed with love for him. All the months she had known him; spent with him, loved him…gone in the beat of the heart.

One moment it was Halloween and now it was November 4th. It had come upon them both so quickly. The last four days had been a complete and total blur of sex, sweat, desperation and utter need.

The little time V had been in the Gallery with her, his need for her was insatiable. They had made love repeatedly, slowly, gently and passionately. It was as if he were trying to memorize each curve and contour of her body, the taste of her skin, and the feel of her touch. As if he was storing the memory of her body to accompany him on his long journey into the underworld. His attentions had been so vigorous, so needy, that right now, as she watched him select a song on the old Wurlitzer, she was debating if she would be able to dance.

Surely her legs could hold out for one last dance? She knew they would. But could her heart?

She could feel it breaking as she allowed her eyes to cast over her lover softly. She felt the once robust muscle in her chest disintegrating. Bit by bit, she knew it was being chipped away at. With every look he gave her, with every word he whispered in her ear, with every touch upon her skin…her heart crumbled a little more. Soon it would reduce to little more than a simple pile of broken red shards, useless and irreparable. She dreaded that day; she truly feared its arrival.

Evey smiled as her lover suddenly turned to her and held out his hand. She put on her very bravest face just for him. One of them had to be strong…

"Dance, my _darling_ Evey?" He asked gallantly, mustering what was left of his resolve. Sadness clung to him like a morbid shroud.

"Now? On the eve of your _revolution_?" She almost spat that repugnant word out of her mouth at him. She hated him and his revolution. No, no…she didn't hate him…she loved him. But yes she loathed his mission.

"A revolution without dancing is a revolution not worth having!" He was trying to sound jovial and happy. He was failing. He clicked his heels together and stood before as tall and as proud as he could.

With a slight nod, Evey took his hand, inhaling his unmistakable scent as she stepped into the warmth of his body. Yes, her heart would hold out just a while longer; for his sake it had to. But after this she would allow it to die. She would not put up a fight as the last piece of her murdered heart broke. There was no point struggling against the inevitable any more.

The music was slow, soft and thoughtful; he held her tightly against him as they swayed together. He didn't want to let go of her. Not now, not ever. He wanted this moment to last for and eternity. To stay sheltered in their underground circus, where no one could touch them, where they were safe. He wanted to cocoon his little Evey in his arms for all time and be as the statues he had 'reclaimed'. He couldn't let her go. But he knew he had to; it hurt more than anything he had ever felt before. No knife wound, no gun shot and no burning fire could ever begin to rival the pain he was so miserably reveling in now.

"Will you be long?" She asked in vain, laying her head on his chest.

"Evey…" Breathed V in a sad, painful sigh. "Evey _please_ do not do this again. Let us just enjoy this last moment together." He begged, his voice faltering as he swallowed.

Tears welled in her eyes. He was so certain he was going to die and nothing she could say or do was convincing him otherwise. She had tried, oh she had tried, but it was of no use. But deep down she knew he would not be returning. Deep down she knew she would not see her lover again and that this exquisite moment would be their last. There. There it was, another chip at her heart; whittled down to nothing more that raw love and unsurpassed adoration.

"I can't live without you." She whispered her lip quivering as she tried desperately not to cry. "I won't survive…" She turned her head and placed a lingering kiss upon his chest above his heart.

"What was that my love?" Asked V. He was lost in thought, thinking only of this last moment with her in his arms.

Blinking back the burning tears that had formed, she used every ounce of her diminished self control and whispered to him softly in the hazy candle light. "I said I'll come with you to the train."

He nodded as the song came to an end. With reluctance, he stepped back, releasing her. With a bow he turned. He had to move away from her and he avoided her eyes, lest he die right here, right now upon the wretched floor of the gallery. He was glad of the mask, for once in his life he was happy to wear it; it cloaked his tears and hid his pain so well. Tearing himself away from heaven and his angel, his tone was low and mournful. He was about to lower himself into the very belly of hell.

"We should go." V murmured.

-------------------------------------

Evey was not certain how long she had waited. She had lost all sense of time.

Half an hour? An hour? Three hours perhaps? She had simply stood upon the cold platform in harsh flickering light waiting. Waiting for her lover to return. Waiting for him to stride back from hell and into her heavenly embrace. Their last moment together repeated itself relentlessly in her fragile mind. Their last exchange of words played over and over in her mind as she struggled to focus on little else.

--------------------------------

"…_you could let it go…we could leave here together."_

"_No…you were right about what I am, I have no tree waiting for me. All I want…all I deserve is at the end of that tunnel."_

"_That's not true…"_

_-------------------------------------- _

She replayed their kiss over and over, torturing herself endlessly. She memorized the feel of the cold porcelain against the warmth of her lips, it frightened her deeply. It was a stark comparison to the kiss they shared the previous evening, a kiss that had been skin in skin. The kiss that had just passed was beautiful; it was despairing and tender, fraught and soft. She wished desperately that she had kissed him longer; maybe it would have persuaded him to stay and leave with her? But now she would never know. His words resonated in her brain; they tore her apart. He was no monster and she hated herself for allowing such words to spew from her mouth. Had she written she would have torn those words and banished them from all existence. She wished she had told him how she felt, wished she had answered as she truly had wanted to…she wished she had told him that _she was his tree_.

But she began to punish herself for her stupidity, she was distracted as the sound of sharp and evil gunfire sounded in her ears.

"Vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv!" She screamed into the dark black tunnel where he had disappeared. Losing all control of herself, she fell to her knees in utter dismay. She placed her head in hands and screamed his name again, praying that he would hear her and return from the conflict. Harsh tears coursed down her face as a thousand horrific scenarios ran through her over worked mind. She couldn't even bear to imagine what may have befallen her prince. She rocked back and forth, the feeling of being totally useless almost too much for her to bear. It was crushing and more painful than anything she had ever known. Had it not been for V's strict and precise instructions, she would have stolen herself into the tunnel and battled side by side with her lover. She would have passed though the mouth of hell with him and fought his demons with him.

But she had a role to play in all of this, a vital and fundamental role.

It was not to mind the train. Nor was it to press the button that would lead to the destruction of Parliament and a corrupt government. Nor was it to keep safe and well out of harms way.

Her role was simple and direct and she had memorized it to the letter.

She had to care for him when he returned from his fight.

------------------------------------------------

Some time later, V eventually returned to Evey.

Crawling, hurt and broken he returned to his angel. Blood poured out of every orifice; old and new. He was mortally injured: V knew he could not survive this. But just as she had taught herself to do, Evey carried out her role with precision and speed. Yes she cared for him. She soothed him, applied pressure to as many bleeding wounds as she could manage, she held his heavy head in her tiny hands.

She choked back her tears as she watched him suffer. She swallowed the evil salty liquid as she desperately tried to save his life…the life of the man she loved. Like a Chinese torture, she played his words over and over in her mind. His heart felt prose and stingingly beautiful words taunting her endlessly.

"_That's the nicest thing…you could have ever said to me…"_

And then he fell silent. A deathly eerie silence; akin to the final exhale of a dying man. But Evey flatly refused to let him die in her arms; it was not his time. Her king, her hero would not die here, in a seedy unused tunnel. He was a savior to millions and she would not let him have his final moments in this squalor.

"V?" Evey shook him gently. "V?" She called his name again, nearing a sweaty panic.

Then suddenly, as if his life had returned to him in a surge, there came a hiss from his clammy lips, followed by a long painful suck of air. "Evey…" He gurgled in drwan out agony. "The…train..."

Thinking he had for seen the possibility, thinking he knew this would happen, Evey rushed to the train in the attempt to find urgent medical supplies that might just save him from deaths talons. She clawed at everything in her path in an attempt to find his elixir of life.

"There's nothing here!" She called madly over her shoulder as she scrambled about wildly, ignoring the amount of noise she was now making. _Damn those that hear me, let no one stand between a woman and the man she loves, _she thought in a fury, seeming to gain the strength of ten men.

"V…where are they?" She cried frantically as her fingers tore there way about, searching for anything.

There was a soft shuffling sound coming from behind her. Looking out the open door of the train, Evey saw her mortally injured lover crawling towards her. He was clawing his way towards the train, his fingers digging into the stone platform, blood trailing behind him in long perforated lines. He looked so helpless.

"Help me…Evey." He almost wept as he fought for air. He could taste his own coppery blood filling his mouth and the taste disgusted him. He spat out sharply and allowed it to drip undignified through the slit in the mask.

Getting down from the train, Evey rushed to his side, once more cradling him to her closely. "My darling! I can't find the medical supplies…where are they…where…have you put them V?"

V shook his head slowly and painfully as he propped himself onto his elbows and rested his head in her lap. It were as if that one single action was stealing every ounce of his energy from him. He was struggling with his words now "No my love, there are no…medical supplies. There is no pill, bandage nor…injection in this world that could save…me now. Please…simply help me aboard. I want…I need...my…Viking funeral."

Evey held V closely in her arms, wishing for this pain and horror to disappear. She wished this was all a horrific dream and that she would awake in V's safe arms, cocooned in his warm bed within the Shadow Gallery. She wished he would kiss her lightly upon the nose and begin to make soft slow love to her. But she knew this was no dream. No fluffy clouds nor tempting slumber. This terror was real and she was living it right now. The smell of the gun powder was real, V's sticky bloody upon her hands was very real. She could not open her eyes from this nightmare no matter how hard she prayed. Her god was not listening.

V's body was buzzing now; a deep throb all over him. The pain he was suffering almost rivaled that of the pain he had felt when he burned his body. Almost the same magnitude but different. The bullet under his skin were like imps gnawing at his most tender flesh. The blood that pumped from him seemed like molten lead seeping painfully from him. But despite this agony, he wanted only one thing. He wanted so badly to get aboard the train to die. He wanted to pull the lever and fly with the train into down the tracks into paramount and end his life in the one violent explosion. That was the only way train was going to work, the only way his vendetta could succeed. This had been his plan; all along he had planned this very ending. The only way to keep the lever from unlocking, from flying out of place and halting the old train was to hold it. And only his two hands could do that.

Evey heard what V was asking of her, but she had alternative plans.

"V…I can't…I can't do it my love..." Evey wailed as tears streamed down her pale face.

She felt his hand tightening upon hers. "Evey...you must. We...must end…this vendetta Evey. Please help me no…." But V's speech was interrupted mid sentence by a low and dangerous purr from the gloom of the station.

"Don't move."The sinister voice chided.

Evey face contorted with a mixture of child-like fear and utter rage. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She turned slowly to face the voice behind her and her heart fell. She could feel V wince painfully in her arms, as if the anonymous order had caused his body renewed agony. The mans words sent a chill down V's spine. He knew he was too weak to defend Evey and himself, he could not fight and the knowledge was crippling him even more.

They were both now at Eric Finch's mercy.

Shaking her head in desperation, Evey looked into the detective's sad eyes. It could no end like this for her, it could not end like this for V. For a fleeting second, the girl and the detective shared a single moment. She pleaded to him silently and he obediently listened. Without a sound she wept and Eric truly felt her pain.

"He's dying. Its over Eric. He's bleeding to death as we speak. PLEASE…HELP ME." Evey wept.

Finch considered the sight before him. The small woman with the giant man. The angel and the titan. V's life was spilling from him, his blood around them both in dark red pools. Eveys clothes were sodden with the very stuff. The laboured drawing of ragged breath grew louder as the weakness overtaking V's body intensified. Eric was torn between his head and his heart, his job and his will. But he had a decision to make, possibly one of the most important decisions of his entire life.

Cautiously lowering the gun and shaking his head, Eric shakily reached for his radio. _I must be fucking crazy,_ he breathed silently.

"I'll call an ambulance." He mumbled after what seemed an eternity of indecision. He began punching his index finger onto the control panel of his two-way, trying to find a frequency. Evey sighed in relief and couldn't help the tears of sheer thankfulness stream down her face. Her lover was going to live.

"No." Hissed V as he turned his head to look at his angel. "Evey the train."

Evey looked meekly at Finch as he fiddled with the radio. Then she looked at the dying man that was scooped in her loving arms. Her heart was breaking, truly breaking; there was almost nothing left of it any more. She knew what was about to happen and the thought of it tore her apart, but she could not stop the inevitable. What was done was done, decisions had been made that could not be reversed. Evey closed her eyes tight and allowed tears to course down her cheeks. Bending down deftly, she kissed V's mask on his cold cheek and whispered softly in his ear.

"I cannot do what you ask of me my love. I cannot let you die on that train. Eric has called the ambulance…just hang on, hang on…please...for me."

"Evey…NO..." He was struggling as he tried to leave her arms, as he tried towards crawl to the train.

"What the hell are you doing?" asked Finch, pushing V back to the floor. Eric knelt besides him and began barking his orders at V. "Do _not_ move. Here…" Taking off his jacket, Eric pressed it against hard V's chest, staunching a particularly heavy flow of blood. "Its over. Okay? I know you killed them V…I know. Now its time to help this broken country rebuild itself…_we need you V_. You've done it…you've done it."

Evey listened to his Eric's sincere and heart felt words. She watched as Finch tried to stop the flow of blood, he was trying to save a hero. In the distance she could hear the faint far away sounds of blaring sirens, and the voices of men not far away. The ambulance was swift, _God bless London._

"Are you going to arrest him if he survives?" She asked, clasping V's hand tightly.

"Arrest him? Christ no…he's a national fucking hero, I'll personally give him a medal! I just wish I had shot Creedy myself." Eric chuckled as he kept a tight hold upon V's labouring chest.

Evey nodded and smiled. The impact V had had upon London, upon England was utterly profound. It finally dawned upon her the effect his vendetta had had and just how important it was to an entire nation. It completely humbled her.

"The train Evey. Don't let me…die in vain. Please…the train. Take me to the…train." V begged.

With tears filling her eyes, Evey knelt besides V. She lifted his mask and placed a lingering sad kiss upon his bloodied lips.

"My love. England still needs you." She cried. "You must stay now."

Before Finch could react, Evey was up upon her feet and had dashed across the platform. She pulled the door to the train closed, locking it behind her. From behind the dusty glass she wept as she smiled.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Eric cried out to her. "Get back here!"

"V has been saved, but not for me. There are people that need him now more than I…it's selfish to ask him to go."

"Damn it woman, get out of there. What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Finch was on his feet in an instant, beating his fist heavily on the doors.

"Evey!" V was pushing himself up. Ignoring the blood and the immense pain, he got to his feet desperately and dragged himself toward her. "Evey!" He cried again, as he collapsed against the side of the train. He slammed his hands against the glass and pressed his face against it. From behind the glass, Evey raised her hand and placed it against his own. The cold glass prevented her touch upon him, but she felt strangely close to him. V placed his hand where that of Eveys was, his blood leaving an almost perfect hand print upon the glass.

"EVEY!" He screamed again to her, knowing what she was about to do. "EVEY IT'S ME…IT'S ALWAYS BEEN ME…DON'T DO IT…PLEASE! LET _ME_ DIE..." He was beating on the door with all his might.

She looked at him. Tears filling her eyes once more. "My Darling…" She cried as she placed a kiss upon the glass, a kiss that was meant for V's lips. Her breath turned the glass cloudy with steam, then it disappeared for ever.

V screamed a deep guttural scream as he failed to receive her warmth. With every ounce of energy left within him, he made one final attempt to get into the train, clawing at it with his fingers. Incensed, he clenched his fists and continued to beat on the door. Eric had retrieved a heavy lump of discarded wood and was beating on the side of the train, attempting to break the glass, but to little avail.

"England needs you." She whispered.

"EVEY!" V roared with all his remaining strength, helpless to stop her.

"I will always love you."

Turning her back on the two men, she pulled the lever firmly and felt the train lurch forward as the engines began to turn. It rumbled beneath her feet as it set off down the track, slowly gaining momentum and speed. Sparing a glance out the window, she could see Finch had been knocked to the ground. He was trying to hold a frantic V back, preventing him from trying to jump onto the track and stop the train.

That was the last she saw of Eric Finch.

------------------------------

In her final moments, the beautiful image of V flashed into her mind. He was smiling as he stood before her; his hands clasped behind his back, chest protruding, his head playfully tilted to one side. There was music, beautiful music in the background and she was smiling back at him.

Yes…this was how she would remember him.

The train rumbled to its destination.

"_You really were my Edmond Dantes. I'll be waiting…I'll wait forever V." _Evey smiled and closed her eyes.

Then the fireworks began.


	21. Chapter 21 One Year Later

_**Hi guys!**_

_**Okay I know it has been an absolute age since I ended this story and yes it is completed, but I felt I had to add one last chapter. This one has been swimming about my brain for well over a year now, and I finally thought that this would be a good time to write it. I felt this story deserved one last chapter. As always, this is dedicated to my most amazing Yoda...I hope you enjoy it my love.**_

_**As you may well realise, the part with Evey writing is post November 5**__**th**__**, and the part with V is one year later. I really hope you enjoy my offering, do let me know what you think.**_

_**************_

_Chapter 21_

_One year later…_

_**November 4**__**th**__**:**_

With her head in her hands and elbows resting on the table wearily, Evey knew this was possibly the most difficult letter she had ever written or was definitely the last one she would ever compose. The straight forward task of writing the letter had manifested itself into a struggle of gargantuan proportions. It seemed like she had a mountain to climb and she could see no way around it.

Where to begin?

She had so many words, so many things she wanted to say to V but she simply could not bring herself to say them to his face. She knew it was weak, a cowards option, but she no longer cared. She felt that if she tried to explain her feelings or the situation she now found herself in, that she would crack and give in. Crumple under his gaze and surrender her thoughts to him. Although Evey wanted this more than anything, she knew she had to do it with some dignity, and without the floods of tears that would accompany such words.

Yes. Writing this letter was extremely difficult.

After an hour or so just staring at a blank sheet of paper and a chilled glass of white wine, Evey felt a little more relaxed and ready to have another attempt at writing her letter. She decided that the best course of action would be to simply write exactly how she felt. No airs, no graces, no frills, no bows. Just her soul and her emotions laid bare in ink and on paper.

Evey picked up the heavy fountain pen and let it hover over the paper for a few seconds.

_Just write what comes into your head,_ she told herself.

So she did. Pen connected with paper.

------------------------------------------------------

_**One year later:**_

It was only just beginning to rain as the chimes that rang forth from Big Ben heralded the arrival of November the sixth. His ominously loud gongs echoed around the whole of London as the first spots of water fell silently from the heavens. It was a crystal clear night, with hundreds of stars shining brilliantly from the black void above. The temperature had dropped considerably over the past few days, and the wind had begun to pick up.

But V didn't notice that. The cold didn't chill him, the rain didn't wet him and the wind didn't make him shiver. He noticed none of it. He simply stood and watched as the London he lived in carried on celebrating and dancing.

In the streets stories below where he stood, he could hear the laughter and merriment of a few rowdy revellers bouncing their way from pub to pub and undoubtedly towards their next pint. They were celebrating their first year of liberty, a new life, a new England. Their first year free from the oppression of Sutlers tyrannical regime. They were celebrating the banishment of the 9pm curfew, the Fingermen, the censored media and all the other enforced regulations that died in the underground with the aged man.

"Long live England!" One of the men cried heartily. The others all cheered with great approval.

"Long live V!" Another shouted loudly. More cheering followed.

"A fucking legend that man, a fucking legend he is!"

The revellers laughed and clapped with happy delight.

"Long live London, land of the free!" The first man cried again.

"I'll drink to that Kev!" Another roared.

"You don't have a drink Dave!" Kev replied with a laugh.

"Well we better hurry up and get to the next pub so you can buy me a pint to toast with!" V sensed that Dave had stumbled and fallen, his keen hearing affording him that which he could not see. A crescendo of laughter and cheering confirmed what he knew.

"I wish we could have V with us, I'd buy that guy a pint….fucking legend!" Kev said, hauling Dave's heavy frame back to his feet, both men laughing heartily.

The revellers disappeared down the road, arguing and bickering as to whose round it was, what drink they would each buy for V and if he really _was_ a man at all; their voices trailing into the darkness and their happiness oh so apparent.

The first anniversary of the cessation of Sutlers dictatorship was being celebrated by thousands of grateful Londoners; all drinking and toasting gaily, singing and dancing with glee. Huge parties had been arranged, and many celebrations planned for months in advance so that the free might rejoice in their freedom. No expense had been spared by anyone. Black and red bunting hung from every shop, building and street light; the colours of London's saviour. The letter 'V' was plastered all over London, every window adorned with posters emblazoned with that red letter. The people of London remembered their hero by raising their glasses to him and letting the champagne flow copiously and the partying continue long into the dawn of November the sixth. The partying and revelry gave everyone a chance to show their delight, happiness and great appreciation for what V had done and for all he had accomplished just one short year ago.

V's name was commemorated by the newly elected mayor of London, who had erected huge stone monuments and having all manor buildings named in his honour. The reproductions of that immortal mask he wore and the all important black cape had been sold by the thousands and children shrieked with glee as they wore them. A minute silence had been held earlier that day as a mark of respect for the champion that fell a year ago today. He had brought them so much, and their unending gratitude is what they would give back to him.

But V would not join in with the festivities and partying. Would not raise a toast or enjoy a glass of well aged champagne in his name. He refused to even acknowledge any of the celebrations and festivities of November the fifth. He watched with sombre eyes all the salutations and merriments being held in his hallowed name. Like sucking on a greasy coin, it all tasted like a bad lie in his mouth and it made him feel false in a sickening way that disturbed his very core. After all, it wasn't even he that was the cause of all this. Of course it was his idea. His dream. His life's work. Everything he had strived for.

But it wasn't him at all.

He didn't die in that tunnel. Didn't burst into the afterlife in an amazing display of resplendent fireworks. He hadn't sacrificed himself for the good of others

No. That was someone else.

Someone, he had come to understand, who was much more important than the cause.

Evey Hammond.

Evey.

_His_ Evey.

He could scarcely think of her without wishing to weep. Even now, a whole year later, the emptiness her death had caused continued to consume him. The pain he felt to this day was still as strong as the moment he watched her disappear into that fateful tunnel on his Viking ship. Words failed to describe his loss, the tragic and heart-breaking death of his beautiful Evey.

The rain was falling heavier now and it dripped steadily from the wide brim of his black hat onto his lapels. With every drop that fell, he heard her name echoed in the reverberations of the droplets on contact. The rain sung her name as it fell and the moniker swept over V and filled him with the deepest type of sadness. Below him the revellers weren't letting the rain dampen their spirits, their distant cheers and hoots filled the night air. But for V, the rain just brought a new wave of pain and sadness that washed over him in stormy torrents.

-------------------

V very rarely drank; it was just something that never overly took his fancy. He could access pretty much any drink he wanted but he seldom felt the urge or the compulsion. In fact he struggled to recollect the last time he had partaken in any form of alcoholic beverage. Casting his mind back he sought out the last memory of him drinking…and then it hit him.

_Evey._

He had last drunk with Evey.

They shared a bottle of aged Montrachet a few days before his 'revolution' was due to take place. They toasted each other and their love with heart felt words and difficult tears. It ended with stolen embraces, salty kisses, a smashed glass and bare skin on skin.

_Such happy memories._

As he remembered the moment with a sad smile, V felt strangely close to her tonight for some unknown reason; he couldn't put his finger on it. He always felt close to Evey for she was never far from his thoughts if out of them at all, but this night was different, he felt like she were here with him, next to him, beside him. It was like he could feel her eyes watching over him from the shadows and as if her breath upon him even now.

Gripping the sides of the kitchen counter a little harder than was comfortable, V felt the sudden urge to indulge in a drink. No, it wasn't an urge; it was a need, a desperate want and irrefusable desire. He didn't want to get drunk, he knew that only foolish men sought comfort in the bottom of a bottle, as rarely was it ever found there. But V just wanted to be warm again, to feel some sense of warmness deep within. Since the death of Evey, it had been as though all his body heat had drained from him, as if it had died with her. Normally he ignored the pangs of icy blasts that tormented him, but tonight they seemed to consume him worse than ever before. Reluctantly giving into his needs, V knew that only one drink could cure this level of coldness.

Wandering to the back of the kitchen, V sought out the one thing he knew would alleviate the chill that crept through him now. It was something that he had almost forgotten about, but had found again only recently after tearing the kitchen apart in search of pain relief and antiseptic. Opening the wooden cupboard door, he moved a few none vitals out of the way and finally found what he was looking for.

The unassuming whisky bottle sat very well in V's hand; that was what had tempted him to 'acquire' it in the first place. The subtle curvature of the gold lettering against the parchment like label had caught his eye and made something inside him dance with excitement. He knew the eye watering price of the drink (£24,000 a bottle), but this was not what had attracted him to it. It was something else, something he couldn't quite explain. The bottle had only been opened once before and without removing the top again, V could already smell the heady notes of the drink and knew it would suit his palate perfectly.

He headed back into the main part of the kitchen and set the bottle of The Macallan Fine and Rare 1926, onto the counter top. Pausing for a moment to appreciate the bottle in all its splendour, he then reached into the cabinet before him and took out a crystal tumbler. He could have used glass, but crystal was the only material that seemed worth enough to hold such a splendid beverage.

Removing the stopper and placing it on the counter, V very slowly poured himself a very generous dram of the laburnum coloured liquid. He took the tumbler in his hand and swilled the whisky around steadily, watching as the heavy liquid left trails down the inside of the glass. Raising it to his now unmasked nose, he inhaled and smelt woody spices, treacle, toffee, raisins and dates; a wonderful collection of amazing fragrances. V smiled a half smile as he thought of the angels taking their very expensive share of this wonderful drink, and how the makers must curse them. Whisky evaporated into the ether and savoured by some much appreciative seraphs.

As he took a cautious sip from the glass, he felt the natural strength of the cask warm him as the liquid passed down his throat. He felt it warm him instantly and deeply, it chased away the November chill nicely. It didn't burn like he imagined it might, instead it soothed him and afforded him an exquisite afterglow to bask temporarily in. V inhaled deeply and exhaled loudly as he took a moment to collect himself. It had been a long day; nay a long year and he found that his grief and sorrow drained him, both physically and mentally. His head swirled with a thousand and one memories and images of Evey, and although he never grew tired of remembering her, it did exhaust him from time to time.

After a minute or so, he took the bottle and tumbler in hand and padded off to the television room where he could sit and relax. Deftly he placed the two onto the heavy wooden coffee table in front of him, but not before taking another sip of the nectar like whisky. He reclined back into the couch as once again his medicine worked its magic, his muscles finally relaxing. The peacefulness of the moment over took V and he closed his eyes as he sunk deeper into his seat. As soon as his lids touched together, images of Evey flashed before him. In some she was crying, in some she was dancing, in some she was smiling. She whirled about in her cornflower blue sundress, spinning and dancing to songs from the Wurlizter, the material riding high in the swirling breeze she was creating. Her light and lithe feet padded and danced gracefully as in his memory her movements slowed to a crawl. She was smiling at him, beckoning him to her with her finger curled over. She was giggling and laughing, smiling and grinning at him...he could not resist her.

Although it seemed a lot longer, they must have been closed for only a minute or so when he reopened his eyes gradually, peeling his lids back so that the low light of The Gallery invaded his sight once more. Nothing out of the ordinary, all was as it should be. His painting still smiled, his statues held still and his books remained where he had dropped them earlier. But as he readjusted his focus and he allowed his gaze to fall upon the coffee table, something came into view that he had not noticed previously.

Now sitting forward and bolt upright, V stared at the small white envelope that lay before him. Tilting his head to the right in confusion, V glared intently at the humble item before him. His eyes poured over the unmistakable letter that adorned that front of the envelope. A rather messy letter 'V' in black ball point ink was scribbled hastily into the white paper. He turned his head to the left and to the right several times, checking if he could immediately see anyone. His keen hearing could hear nothing, no light steps nor held breath. There was no one in The Gallery, he knew this as instinctively as he knew his own blood type, and there had been no breach in his security. His minds whirred with the possibilities of who the letter had reached him. He knew he wasn't so insane to believe that his own Evey had some how left it for him, that would be an absolute impossibility, but it still didn't stop him from hoping. Shaking the absurd thought from his head, V could not fathom how the letter had appeared and he wondered if he really wanted to know.

After what seemed like the longest time, V afforded himself enough will to reach out and take the envelope from the table. As he brought the article closer to him for greater inspection, a distinctive and unmistakable wave of scent coursed over him. Sweet and sweeter still, it was _her_ scent, _Eveys_ scent. A subtle mix of jasmine, orchid and vanilla that swathed over him, leaving him reeling and desperate. It was instantly recognisable, he knew it was her fragrance, he could never forget it. He carried a red ribbon that she had once worn in her hair, in his pocket. He took it out every now and again to secretly inhale the intoxicating scent; it helped him feel closer to her even though the fragrance was beginning to fade.

V tore at the flimsy envelope like a madman, frantic to know the content. He ranked the piece of paper from the envelope and tossed it to one side carelessly. He knew it was a letter of some descript, he could make out the tops of T's and L's through the thin paper. Unfolding the letter anxiously, V's eyes fell upon the arrangement of vowel and syntax and he inhaled sharply.

The script on the paper perfectly matched the letter V on the front of the envelope. That same messy scrawled hand writing that he loved so much was now glaring back at him. He knew, in that instant he knew beyond all reasonable doubt who the letter was written by and who it was from.

Evey.

He knew not how it had come to be in front of him, he had sat in the same place a hundred times in the past year and he had never seen the letter before. Swinging his head from left to right and back again, V still could see nor sense anyone that may have left this for him. He felt a twinge of cold creep up his spine but he dismissed it angrily and turned his attentions back to the letter in his hands.

His eyes scanned the letter painfully slowly, taking in each word, each syllable, each full stop. As he read further he felt a great surge of unbelievable sadness take over him. The words he read pierced him deeper than any bullet or knife ever could or would. The beautiful and untidy script began to burn onto his brain, forcefully memorising the words as they appeared before his eyes. Wounds that were trying in vain to heal were ripped open once more and from them poured the blood of sheer pain and torment. Anguish and torment consumed V as he read, raging through him with wanton and disregard. The grief he felt was magnified a thousand times as tears began to course down his charred face for the first time since Evey had passed. He had not previously allowed himself to cry, instead just suffering silently and with dry eyes. But now, as he read he could no longer keep his composure, he broke down and howled a deep and guttural cry. If he had felt any signs of his grief letting up, they had well and truly been destroyed and V felt himself crashing back to square one all over again.

V threw his head into his hands and sobbed like no man had ever done before him. He wailed and cried with all the fury and sadness of a man that had lost his mind. V let go of the piece of white paper, the letter fluttered lightly to the floor, and V continued to cry.

***

_My dearest V_

_If you are reading this letter, then my plan has succeeded and you are alive and well. Unfortunately, it also means that I did not survive, much as I predicted, but this matters not as you are safe. Your life has a far higher value than my own._

_I know that words will not comfort you in your grief and that there is nothing I can write that will alleviate you from your sadness. It pains me to know that I am the cause of all your sorrow, that I brought this terrible mourning upon you. I hate to imagine you in any form of distress or suffering, and that truly was never my intention. You are the last person I should ever have wished to hurt, and I am sorry that it has not been the case that I could spare you such pain._

_I have written this letter to you as there are things that I was not strong enough to say to you. I would have died beneath your gaze and would never have had chance to say what I truly needed to say._

_Before I met you, my life was empty. My days filled with fear and my time spent hiding in the shadow of life. Dread and trepidation were all too real to me, and I lived with a constant feeling of panic and dismay hanging over me. I was leading a tenth of a life, cowering from those I had never met and avoiding the ones I had. My life was meaningless, hollow and insignificant._

_But then I met you. My knight in shining armour. You rescued me._

_From that day on you showed me what a life could and should be. How it should be lived and enjoyed, not squandered in shadow. You taught me to live without fear and to not be afraid any more, that life could be good and was to be enjoyed without terror. You introduced music, laughter, happiness and love into my life, things I had never dreamed even dreamed of. You taught me to dance, smile, sing and love. My life became filled with all the things I had once long since forgotten, and I can never thank you enough for giving me such wonderful things. _

_But most importantly you gave me the gift of you and your love. I feel honoured to have known you and to have had you in my life. Your love has meant more to me than anything I have ever known before. And although I am no longer with you V, you must try and take solace in the knowledge that wherever I am I am thinking of you every moment of every day. I shall always remember how you smiled at me when we stood in the pouring rain together. How closely you held me as we danced on warm balmy evenings. How you kissed me so deeply I felt my body begin to melt! But above all and most importantly, I shall remember how you loved me. If all else ends and my memory finally fails me, I shall never forget the love that you had for me and how you made me feel. _

_I shall not say do not weep, for not all tears are an evil. And do not think that I have abandoned you, I have just gone somewhere where you cannot follow me. Do not fear my love, for I shall see you again. I am waiting for you and I shall continue to wait until the day I see your face again. _

_Go now and live your life, do as you must for London needs you now as much as she ever did. Do not let grief and sorrow become your sole companions, you must live strong and continue on. Try not to think too much about how I died, try to remember how WE lived. _

_Thank you for loving me._

_Everlastingly yours,_

_Evey xxx_


End file.
